The Mother Lode
by abraxis
Summary: COMPLETE! Riddick, trying to join humanity from one direction, finds someone making a similar self-reassesment.
1. Chapter 1 The Meet

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 1 - THE MEET  
He sat at the bar nursing his whiskey. Four years a dead man and things had been going pretty well for him. He had finally acquired enough credits to take the next step in his transformation. It hadn't been easy. Even though the pay was good, the cost of living, or rather hiding, was high on Derius 4. It's real value was that, as an inner cluster planet, it was one of the last places anyone who didn't buy his death would think to look for him. It was also one of the last places that he might run into someone who would recognize him and put the lie to that death.  
  
He had let his hair grow into a half inch long skull cap. Had grown a beard and mustache; not long, just enough for cover. Then, he had started taking contracts to get the credits for the most important change. But his eyes were going to cost plenty just to make them normal. He hated that idea. He would much rather have gotten a righteous job done to replace the prison shine. But, at twenty times the price of a reversal, that wasn't an option.  
  
He had been one day from trading one disability for another, trading day-blind for night-blind, when Freddie G. had approached him with this contract. With the credits offered he would be able to pay for the best of both worlds as far as his sight was concerned, get the righteous job that would let him see just as well in light as in dark and wouldn't scream convict to every cop and merc. He would also get a guaranteed perfect, new identity as part of the contract, something that he wouldn't have been able to swing with any amount of credits. The final cream on top was that the contract would get him back to the outer systems with a legal trail for that new identity. It was the mother lode for someone in his position. It also stank to high heaven of a trap.  
  
Either way, he had to agree to the meet. He couldn't pass up such a sweet chance of being able to begin to live on the clear and clean almost immediately. The longer he stayed on the run the more chance there was that he would never make it out. Hell, he wasn't even sure he could make it once he was out. But he had to try. There was a debt to be paid and a promise to keep. On the other hand, if it were a trap then someone knew he wasn't dead and he had to find out who that someone was.  
  
So here he was, sitting in plain sight at the bar as the contractor had specified, every nerve on red alert, rather than in one of the dark secluded booths toward the rear of the place where he could have relaxed a little. The only reason that he had accepted this demand was that he had been allowed to select the place for the meet. This saloon had dimmer lighting at the bar than most had in the back booths and it had a gigantic mirror across the back of the bar that gave him a better view of the lighted entrance than anyone entering would have of him. It also had more ways out than just the doors.  
  
The place wasn't all that busy, dive that it was, but the woman would have caught his attention in a crowd. Young and fresh, a pretty face surrounded by short, curly brown hair; she was an amazon. From where the top of her head passed the door frame, he judged her to be over 6' tall until he saw the huge platforms of her shoes. All right. She was a petite amazon, maybe 5'9" or 10", but still an amazon. She had shoulders as broad as most men; nice, strong, level shoulders with plenty of creamy ivory skin showing around the skimpy straps of her black, slip cut top. She had some extra weight to her. But, damn, it was nicely arranged and there was muscle underneath it. She moved easy and sure on those stilts for shoes.  
  
She wasn't busty but not flat chested either and they bounced nicely as she took another step into the bar. She tucked in prettily at the waist and her hips were just slightly narrower than her shoulders, allowing her arms to hang straight at her sides. Those arms were long and strong looking with enough extra flesh to make them also look invitingly soft. Her legs were amply displayed by the black mini skirt she wore. They were also long, just seemed to go on forever, and equally strong and invitingly soft.  
  
The lily was gilded artfully with the glint gold; long, spool shaped, dangle earrings and single, thick chains at neck, left wrist and right ankle. He felt himself getting hard.  
  
"Down boy," he thought. "It ain't like you haven't been getting any. Tonight is business not pleasure. Here to earn money not spend the kind she'd cost."  
  
Boy didn't seem to be getting the message. It didn't help that the woman was now walking straight toward him with a graceful but purposeful stride.  
*****************************************************  
As Jenna let her eyes adjust to the dim interior of the sleazy tavern, she began to scan the bar trying to locate the man she was here to meet. This turned out to be fairly simple. The patrons at the bar consisted of three john-hooker couples negotiating the night's business, a set of arguing drunks, a few drinking to get drunk types and one man who was watching the entrance in the mirror behind the bar. He was wearing dark glasses and seemed to be focused on his drink but she could feel him staring at her.  
  
Since he hadn't been told that his contact was a woman, his continuing attention after she had stepped away from the door must indicate a baser interest. She allowed herself a brief sense of accomplishment at this. She had put a great deal of effort into her choice of clothing and accessories. To look like a woman who would allow herself to be "picked up" in such an establishment hadn't been what had concerned her. To look like a woman that a man would want to "pick up" had been. It would seem that she had managed to do that.  
  
She made a quick appraisal of her own. While his position sitting at the bar hid a great deal, she could see that he was very strongly built. A black, short sleeved knit shirt displayed massive arms and broad shoulders that tapered into a trim, tight torso. His choice of meeting place that both fulfilled her demands and yet allowed him a maximum of security demonstrated that he had intelligence relative to his profession. She could only trust in Mr. G's judgment and hope that he had more than brute muscle and criminal cunning. Though that would do for the basic duties for which he would be employed, it would be extremely advantageous and much more to her own personal desires if he were capable of more than that.   
  
Fingers crossed, mentally, she strode across the room and took a seat on the bar stool next to him. When the bartender asked for her order, she used the agreed upon code phrase.   
  
"I usually drink Tovarich but any vodka will do. A straight shot, please."  
  
Quoting her a reasonable price and smiling appreciatively at the little piece of mid-drift that she revealed by raising the hem of her top to reach the pocket sewn into the waist band of her skirt, the bartender reached under the bar and brought up a bottle of clear liquor and a stubby whiskey sour sized glass. After pouring his overestimation of a shot into the glass, he gave her a subtle warning look that referenced the man beside her and then made himself busy at the far end of the bar. It took her a second or two to understand that the bartender had taken her for a hooker and thought that she was risking too dangerous a piece of business. That the bartender in a place as low as this would consider the man beside her threatening was a mark in the man's favor.  
  
As she waited, somewhat impatiently, for him to respond with the proper counter phrase, she sipped the vodka. She didn't have much experience with liquor, just enough to know that champagne was bitter and puckered the mouth and whiskey was completely nasty. She was surprise to find that Dr. Fenton had been correct in his insistence that vodka be the choice in the code. She liked the almost tasteless heat of it, especially as it hit her stomach and firey warmth spread through her. She smiled softly as she took a second sip, wondering what other surprises this evening was going to hold.  
  
The next one came almost immediately. The man turned his face slightly in her direction and spoke in an intimate whisper. The deep, rumbling purr of his voice vibrated a lot more in her than her ear drum. The scientist in her muttered about testing the subsonic range of his vocal cords but the thought was lost in the unexpected physical sensations she was experiencing.  
  
"Doing a little slumming, sweet thing?"  
  
As his words finally took precedence over his voice, Jenna felt like she had suddenly been doused with ice water. Shit! Shit!! Shit!!! That wasn't the counter phrase. She had sat down by the wrong man; a very big, probably very dangerous wrong man, who had just addressed her in a quite suggestive manner. Though she was certain she could deal with him if he became aggressive, the last thing she could afford to do was bring attention to herself by creating that kind of scene. She turned toward him with her best "you're boring me" expression on her face then turned back to her drink, taking a much larger drink of it than she had before.  
  
This time the vodka's fire hit before it left her mouth. She managed to swallow it but had to take several gasps of air to keep from choking. The man chuckled.  
  
"Now that's better. Couldn't finish this with you lapping that stuff up like a kitten going for milk." His easy drawl turned into a parody of upper class precision. "You might like that better with a mixer." The drawl returned as he raised his voice and spoke to the bartender. "We're taking a booth. Bring us a couple of bottles and a Coke set-up."  
  
He picked up both of their glasses in one hand and took Jenna's arm in the other. His grip was gentle but firm as he stood up and brought her to her feet to stand facing him. He was a tad taller than the 6' 1" that the platforms gave her. His shoulders were so broad that he made her feel almost petite; something that she hadn't experienced since childhood. The sensation made her a bit breathless.  
  
He turned and began moving her away from the bar. There was nothing in his manner that solicited permission or agreement, just obedience. Jenna's usual reaction to even being touched without invitation, much less man-handled in such a fashion, would have been swift and none too gentle. Now, she found herself compliantly allowing him to steer her through the maze of tables and chairs and into the dark niche of a circular booth, the graceful strength with which he moved totally occupying her mind.  
  
But, when he made it clear that he intended to sit next to her rather than take the opposite side of the booth, she finally reached her limit. The man's insolence seemed to have no end. Trying to pull her arm out of his grasp, she spoke sharply.  
  
"I would prefer that you sat on the other side of the table!"  
  
He continued to use the grip on her arm to maneuver her into the booth and added the pressure of the side of his hip and thigh against hers.  
  
"Got to make it look right, sweet thing."  
  
Jenna doubted that any resistance short of an unrestrained attack would free her from his hold. Deciding to take the opposite track, she feigned cooperation and, as soon as his grip loosed, attempted to keep scooting farther around the booth. It didn't work. He released his grip only to wrap his arm around her back, place his hand against her waist and slide her back across the slick vinyl of the seat. She found herself pressed tightly against his side the full length of their bodies. He felt like warm, thinly padded steel. Jenna's insides suddenly felt like she had taken another extremely large drink of the vodka. Her mind was in total confusion as she turned her head and looked into the reflective surface of his dark glasses only to see her own startled eyes staring back at her.  
**************************************************  
He saw the shocked confusion in her eyes and felt her body shiver against his. He drew a deep breath through his nose, seeking her emotions. They weren't hard to read. Except for a slightly spicy odor that he identified as a popular men's deoderant, she wore no artifical scents. Heavy anxiety but no real fear. A hint of anger but it was older, not now. Sexual arousal, the pheromones were coming off of her in waves. He put it all together and felt a little shocked himself. This full grown woman, ripe as they come, was getting hot and bothered over of him and had no idea what was happening to her.  
  
As soon as she had spoken to the bartender, in a throaty contralto just as lush as her body, the code phrase had told him she was his contact. The cultured tone and proper pronunciation and structure of her speech had removed her from the hooker category, bypassed merc and pocketed her as a toner; totally not someone who would allow him to touch her once this silly game was over. That's why he had made her play it all the way. Riddick's law (one of them anyway): Get what you can while you can.  
  
As he continued to stare into her eyes, he saw understanding begin. Stiffening a little he waited for the rest of it to come: the shame, disgust, revulsion. It didn't. Confusion turned to sharp awareness. Shock was replaced by ......... Jesus H. Christ, the closest word he could find for it was 'curiosity' and that really didn't describe it. He had had run-ins with toners slumming for cheep thrills, trying to put some life into their meaningless existence by playing with the dangerous animals. This wasn't that at all. She was looking at him like kids look at a teacher when the subject has really grabbed onto their imagination. He cut back on the predator purr and spoke almost gently.  
  
"Hang in their, sweet thing. Just a little longer and you can have some space to re-group."  
  
There was an unspoken 'thank you' in her voice as she replied.  
  
"That would be much easier to do if you wouldn't call me that. My name is Jenna. What shall I call you."  
  
"Riddle."  
  
It wasn't the name he was using. He might still need that identity. It wasn't the name he had intended to give her either. It was a name he had used only once and for a very short time; the one he had used on the trader ship that had rescued that damn, piece of junk, smile of the fates skiff just before it completely disintegrated. Used because Jack had goofed and then changed directions in mid-word. Which is exactly what he had just done.  
  
What in the hell had happened? One of those ..... what was the psycho babble ...... oh, yeah ........ 'a verbalization of a subconscious desire or an inappropriate thought. Popular term: Freudian slip.' Dealing with all the yoyo shrinks that one institution or another had thrown at him had been a interesting education in that kind of shit. Yeah, it was a slip all right. One that could put his ass back in Slam real fucking fast. Yet, he'd almost done it, almost blurted out his real name to a woman he had just met. He suddenly need time to re-group, himself. 


	2. Chapter 2 The Contract

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 2 - THE CONTRACT   
As if on cue the bartender brought their bottles, a tall glass of ice and a can of Coke. The woman made no attempt to use this to move away from Riddick. Instead,he felt her relax, turning her enforced confinement into a willing snuggle. Even after the bartender had been paid and retreated, she waited for him to signal an end to the need for the act. She was quick on the pick-up and flexible. He liked that.  
  
He took a last brief moment to fix the feel and smell of her in his memory and then reluctantly released her. He expected her to make for the opposite side of the booth. She surprised him. She moved away but only enough to separate them about a hand's width. He broke open the seal on the bottle of vodka and set it in front of her. As he open his whiskey and filled his glass, she spoke.  
  
"I know one is expected to add the liquor to the mixer but would it be acceptable to drink the two separately? I would like to continue experiencing the vodka in its pure form."  
  
Damn, which fork should you use when dining in a sewer? And she was serious about it. Riddick laughed.  
  
"In this joint you could shoot them up and nobody would blink. Just go long on the Coke and short on the booze if you want to be able to walk out of here."  
  
There was a brief silence as she poured the Coke over the ice but poured the vodka into the stubby glass and took an appreciative but dainty sip of it.  
  
"Do you do that, Mr. Riddle, use intravenous opiates or stimulants?"  
  
The way she talked, like an encyclopedia, should have irritated him. But it didn't sound put on or worked at. It sounded natural for her, sounded like it was the only way she knew to do it. The question did irritate him but it was a legitimate one.  
  
"No. I'm not a hype. There are cleaner, faster ways to commit suicide, if that's where you're at."  
  
"Has that ever been 'where you were at', Mr. Riddle?"  
  
Now that question wasn't legitimate. She was beginning to sound like a yoyo shrink.  
  
"No! Where I'm at, other people bleed. Now get to the contract!"  
  
He had kept the volume of his voice low but had put some threat into it. It didn't phase her. She smiled and relaxed back into the seat.  
  
"That is exactly what I am doing, Mr. Riddle. Though my questions may seem impertinent, they are necessary. As I am sure Mr. G has informed you, the principle duties required are interplanetary piloting and security. However, I require someone capable of more than that. I have been quite sheltered and am consequently lacking a great deal of knowledge and experience that the re-location I wish to make requires. To put it bluntly, even within my own circle, I am considered ..... well, odd is one of the kinder terms that has been applied to me. I need someone who is capable of and willing to make the effort to assist me in modifying this oddness and acquiring the skills and knowledge necessary to survive outside my gilded cage. In my opinion, a certain level of invasion of your privacy is necessary to assure myself of your appropriateness for such an intimate association."  
  
His first though: another greenie headed for a hard way to die. Then one word caught all of his attention.  
  
"Gilded cage, huh? And someone else is keeping the key."  
  
"Exactly. That is the reason I chose to seek the services of Mr. G. rather that more legitimate sources. I specifically requested that he recommend someone who, because of his own experience, would empathize with a desire for freedom above that for comfort, safety, even life; someone that shared my extreme need for a new beginning; and ......"  
  
She abruptly went silent and reached for the glass of vodka. He captured her hand with his and held it pressed against the table just short of her goal. She had finally gotten to it, the reason for the big payday.  
  
"And?"  
  
She took a very deep breath, exhaled slowly and then inhaled again.  
  
"Someone hiding from people just a dangerous and powerful as those I wish to escape and would, therefore, be unable to betray me without betraying himself to consequences most probably worse than those I would suffer."  
  
Riddick released her hand. She reached for the Coke instead of the vodka and took a large drink. He smirked: dry throat. But he put points on her side of the books. She might be green as grass but she wasn't stupid. That sweet body held a sharp, cunning, gutsy mind. Now, he understood why the payday had been so enticing. It had been tailored to be the prefect bait for someone like him. The thought crossed his mind that they might be getting a better class of mercs these days. He needed to find out just how far her innocent act would play.  
***********************************************  
Jenna was grateful for the acid cut of the Coke. It was very effective in removing the cotton from her mouth and throat. She had just made herself a very real threat to a man who was inclined to deal with threats quite severely. As time dragged on without his making any reply to this, her anxiety grew. Then she sat the glass of Coke back on the table. Suddenly his upper body was turned toward her and a massive arm across her chest pinned her against the back of the bench. As she stared into reflective lenses, she felt a whisper touch against her inner thigh. It moved higher and higher, pulling her skirt with it, then stopped. Looking down, she saw the glint of a wickedly beautiful curved blade laying against the tender flesh at the top of her leg. It was perfectly positioned to sever the femoral artery with one short slash. When he finally spoke, it was a relief. Not a great one but sufficient for the moment. He was talking not cutting.  
  
"Didn't think that hangin' with a badass like that could be dangerous, sweet thing?"  
  
She had expected this sort of reaction and tried to prepare for it. However, the scenarios that her imagination had been capable of creating were pale ghosts compared to the reality. The cold savage strength that emanated from him was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Her mind quickly corrected that. There had been whispers of it watching the big cats behind the bars of their enclosures. Whispers that had fascinated and captivated her to the extent that she rarely visited any other part of the zoo. Now, experiencing the full effect sans protective barriers, in the beast's own environment as it were, she knew just how soft those whispers had been.  
  
But this was no animal, no alien mind with nothing but basic instincts and needs. This was a man with human intellect and motivation. By speaking, he had shown that he was functioning on that higher level. Still, man or animal the first rule was the same. Show no fear. She struggled to keep her voice calm and steady.  
  
"It occurred to me. I decided that it was less dangerous than risking betrayal. It was also a danger that I felt capable of mitigating."  
  
"How?"  
  
There was no decrease in his intimidating aura but he was continuing the conversation, no matter how tersely.  
  
"I specified a man whose reputation for honoring his contracts was unquestionable, one who would consider it bad form to slash an employer's throat for the further profit of his possessions, and ......." she took a deep breath and plunged on. "A man who might seduce a woman but would never force her; one with whom a woman would be as safe as she chose to be. Mr. G has given you a glowing reference on both those points."  
  
His chuckle surprised her. There was real humor in it.  
  
"Freddie G. would give glowing references to Jack the Ripper if there was a big enough commission in it. It happens that this time he got it right. I'm no rapist and I keep my contracts. 'Bad form, huh?' Yeah, that's one way to put it." The amused tone disappeared just as quickly as it had arisen. "There's something else that's 'bad form' in my book. That's being a merc looking to collect on my ass. You need to start figuring out how to convince me that you're not."  
  
This took Jenna completely by surprise.  
  
"Me? a merc? ....... You suspect me of being a .... a bounty hunter?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
"Oh ..... oh, my."  
***************************************************  
Damn! She looked pleased. She sounded pleased. She acted like his accusing her of being a fucking merc was a compliment.  
  
"That is not a good thing for me to be thinking, sweet thing."  
  
He watched her closely. He could see the change as logic conquered emotion.  
  
"Yes, of course it isn't. I apologize. Obviously I don't have the same knowledge of mercs as you have. You will need to tell me how I can prove to you that I am not one."  
  
He targeted the one piece of information that she had been very careful not to reveal. What she said probably wouldn't tell him anything but the way she said it might. He was right about that.  
  
"Tell me who you're running from. Who owns your cage?"  
  
"No!"  
  
Her body stiffened but she had enough control not to move, not to risk being cut. Her eyes were defiant but he could smell her fear. For the first time, he could smell fear on her and he and his shiv weren't what she was afraid of. She had said "a desire for freedom above .... even life". Now, he believed her. It still might be a trap but she wasn't the one after the bounty. He released her, replaced his shiv in the pocket at the back of his belt and sat back.  
  
"Drink up. We're getting out of here."  
  
She ignored the Coke and took a heavy drink of the vodka. This time she didn't choke on it. He stood up and away from the booth, allowing her room to get out. Picking up both liquor bottles by the necks with one hand, he wrapped the same arm around her waist, leaving his shiv hand free. He pulled her close against his side and walked her out of the bar.  
  
As he continued walking across the street and then along it toward the river warehouse district, she had no problem keeping up with his natural stride. An image of those long lovely legs came to mind and he wondered what the view would be if he was following her instead of walking beside her. He filed that thought for future investigation. Even if his play hadn't required the 'we're a couple' act, the feel of her body massaging his was a lot better than just watching. But if he appreciated her physical attributes, he appreciated her quiet acceptance of his lead and lack of questions even more.  
  
He hadn't allowed his thoughts about the woman interfere with his awareness of everything else around them. After only two blocks, he was certain that what he had suspected would happen was happening. They were being followed. He turned right, walked another block and turned left, another block and right again. At this last turn, he again smelled fear from her. He was expecting her strained whisper when it came but wasn't expecting the question it asked.  
  
"We are being followed aren't we?"  
  
"Yes"  
  
"I want him alive, Mr. Riddle. I must be able to question him."  
  
What she said was astonishing enough but the tone of command with which it was said almost made him miss-step. Her thought matched his own. But even if it hadn't, there was no way he was going to pass on seeing where she was going with it. She had been just one puzzle after another ever since she had walked through the door of that bar. He was suddenly very determined to keep her around, her way or his, until he put all her pieces together.  
  
He made his next turn into an alley, a very dark alley, pulling off his shades as he did. A short way into the darkness, he pushed her behind a dumpster and against the side of the building. Shoving the liquor bottles into her hands, he stared hard into her eyes.  
  
"Don't move."  
  
She didn't speak aloud, only mouthed something. He turned away and was several steps back down the alley toward his quarry when he finally realized what she had said.  
  
"Beautiful."  
  
Part of his mind screamed, "What was that?" Another part screamed, "Not now!!"  
  
He barely made it into the dense shadow of the wall when a pale, rat like face peered around the corner of the building. He recognized it. The name that went with it was Jeeter and the little weasel worked for Freddie G. That the man's slightly olive complexion was shining like death in the moon light, told Riddick he wasn't enjoying this job one little bit. At that point Riddick's inclination was to leave Jeeter unconscious in the alley and head straight for Freddie G. But his curiosity about what the woman intended to do with him won out. As soon as Jeeter stepped into the alley he grabbed him by the back of the neck, raised him on tip toe and danced him down the alley to where she was waiting.  
  
"Here he is. What do you want to do with him."  
  
Maybe the shock of his capture was wearing off or maybe finding out that his fate lay in a woman's hands gave Jeeter some courage.  
  
"Barrol knows me, lady. I work for Mr. G."  
  
Riddick smiled. Jeeter's voice was even more squeaky that usual do to the constriction of Riddick's hand around his neck.  
  
"I see. What is your name?"  
  
Her voice was gentle, soft, but Riddick heard what was underneath that. Jeeter didn't.  
  
"Jeeter, ma'am."  
  
"Well, Mr. Jeeter, why are you following us?"  
  
He could see the surprise on Jeeter's face and knew the reason for it. This was probably the first time in the man's life that someone had added anything to his name but derogatory adjectives.  
  
"Mr. G told me to. .... ahh ..... he was kinda worried, you know. Just wanted to make sure you was all right........ Please, can Barrol let me down...... It's real uncomfortable ....... the way he's got me."  
  
He knew Jeeter was lying. Freddie G had ordered him to follow them but the woman's safety wasn't the reason. Freddie G wasn't what you would call the caring type. Her reply told Riddick that she didn't believe Jeeter any more than he did.  
  
"No, Mr. Jeeter. Mr. Barrol can't release you. I wish to move to some place private, with a little more light, and discuss this a bit more and I don't believe that I can trust you to accompany us without his assistance." She shifted her attention to Riddick. "If you will Mr. Barrol. Please take the lead with Mr. Jeeter and I will follow."  
  
It took Jeeter a moment to realize what she intended. He went ballistic with fear. Riddick was at the point of having to release his grip on the man's neck to keep from breaking it when he suddenly drooped in a dead faint from the impeded circulation to his brain. Tossing the scrawny little man's limp body over his shoulder, upper body in front so he could keep an eye on his hands, Riddick took the woman's arm and led her out of the alley. As soon as they reached the light of the street, he had to release her to put on the dark glasses once again but he motioned her to stay beside him. The slightly amused expression on her face told him that she knew he didn't trust her to walk at his back.  
  
He searched his memory for someplace close that would fit her description. At this time of night, the whole area was deserted and the alley would have done fine for him but she needed light. As he walked on step after step without a destination, the full import of the mistake he had been about to make, before being offered this contract, hit him. The greater part of his carefully acquired and honed survival skills was based on his ability to see when others couldn't. His knowledge of the world around him was equally effected. Reversing his shine wouldn't have turned him into a day creature again. It would have made him a severely crippled creature of the night until he had a long, long time to readjust. He had to get rid of the prison shine but he was no longer willing to settle for anything less than a righteous job to replace it. The only way to get that was to take this contract.  
  
This unpleasant realization added to the irritation at not being able to think of a place to take Jeeter was putting him in a pretty foul mood. The woman's question, when she finally broke the silence, topped it off.  
  
"Where are we going, Mr. Barrol?"  
  
He stopped walking and, grabbing her shoulder, turned her to face him. He really didn't care when his voice revealed a lot more of his anger than he intended.  
  
"I really have no fucking idea. Since you're the one who needs light, you think of something."  
  
This was where she was supposed to cringe away from him like a frightened rabbit. Not what happened. Setting the liquor bottles on the sidewalk, she raised one hand to his face, making a shield against the glare of the nearby street light, and with the other she lifted his shades and looked directly into his eyes. She didn't say the word but he could hear it in her soft sigh. "Beautiful."  
  
Shit! This just didn't happen to Big Evil. Stunned, his mind was still trying to decide what he should do about it when he realized that his body had already made that decision. His dick was as hard as if she had put those hands on his crotch. He was trying to control his urge to throw Jeeter down and put her against a wall when she turned logical on him again.  
  
"I have read about this in my research. The description of its appearance was ...... highly inadequate. The description of its advantages and disadvantages seems to have been less so." She replaced his shades and lowered her hands. "I have a suitable place but you must take my contract before I would be willing to take you there."  
  
He hesitated. This felt just a little too much like blackmail. Then his other side went off on him. Hell, Riddick, are you being stupid-stubborn just to prove a point or have you become completely paranoid. The last thing any merc is going to think about a shine job is that it's beautiful. Any way, if she's righteous, this contract is the best chance you are ever going to get; if she isn't, you don't have to be either.  
  
"You've just hired yourself a badass." 


	3. Chapter 3 Go Ask Alice

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 3 - GO ASK ALICE  
For a moment Jenna found it hard to breath. She was flooded with relief and very grateful to whatever gods were smiling on her. The details of the escape were too complicated to hold together for very much longer without being discovered. She had almost despaired as weeks had passed without any success on Mr. G's part to find someone interested in her contract. That the first one to be so had proven to be an excellent candidate and had now accepted the position seemed beyond reality. But then this whole matter had been beyond reality, her reality, from the start. I had been just as strange as the book Dr. Fenton had chosen for their operation codes; just "curiouser and curiouser".  
  
Now, the book had changed. He had changed it. Riddle, Barrol, whatever; the name would be different again very soon. They had designated him "The Key" since he would open the door to their new lives. The small taste of his reality, of him, that she had already experienced had given her a peek beyond that door. It wasn't a children's fantasy. It was pulp fiction, film noir; Mickey Spillane and Ramond Chandler; where the winners were those who managed to stay alive. Whatever else this man was, he was a survivor in that milieu. She prayed that she would be able to learn enough from him to insure that she and the others could manage to do the same.  
  
She picked up the liquor bottles.  
  
"Excellent. I have a skimmer."  
  
She had memorized a map of the area, actually the whole city; not a difficult task with her particular quirk of memory. As she took the lead, she chose a more direct route to the location where her vehicle was parked rather than heading back toward the bar. Instead of walking beside her, as she had him, Riddle took a position several paces to the rear. When she looked over her shoulder at him, the smirky twist of his smile left no doubt as to why he had chosen to do that. He was taking sexual pleasure in the movement of her posterior as she walked.  
  
She felt her face burning and snapped her head around to keep him from seeing her embarrassment. In an automatic response, her body stiffened and her stride became stilted, forced. A myriad of emotions assailed her. She would liked to have claimed righteous anger or indignation, at the least, but those two were very conspicuous in their absence. Recognizing her true reaction made her face burn even hotter.  
  
Then he was beside her, his arm around her. She flinched away from his hand as it branded her waist. All this accomplished was to aid him in pressing her full torso against his equally searing side. Then, his rumbling purr caressed her ear.  
  
"Relax. You got just about the nicest locomotion I've ever seen."  
  
Oh, damn! He could read her so easily. But her embarrassment was drowned in the pleasure that his compliment gave her. Just as suddenly, reality forced itself upon her. This shouldn't be happening. She shouldn't be allowing this to happen. For him to be attracted to her, unexpected as it was, was an advantage in insuring his cooperation when the full extent of the operation was revealed to him. Its opposite, her reacting to him on other than a purely logical level, would be a massive complication. Her reply to him was more for her own ears than his.  
  
"It's the shoes."  
  
His smug chuckle did nothing to help her believe this. She continued walking, doing her best to appear uneffected. She grabbed on to the fact that he had qualified his judgement to try and control her reaction to it. He had said "just about". That meant he had seen better; that she was really nothing special. That was it; she was nothing special; just the one closest at hand; just something to occupy him until something better came along. With that thought, her stomach convulsed with an emotional pain that was almost physical. Her continuing inner turmoil was so violent that she was shocked when the dark metallic blue of her skimmer appeared a short distance away. She had no idea how she had managed to find it.  
  
The skimmer was a two seater. Disengaging herself from Riddle's arm, she unlocked the passenger-side door. Placing the liquor bottles in the map box under the control board, she shifted the back of the seat forward expecting him to deposit Jeeter in the storage area behind the seats. Instead, after very carefully lowering the man from his shoulder, he slammed him roughly against the side of the vehicle. Jeeter reacted with a loud "oomph" and his eyes flew open.  
  
"Jesus, Barrol. What was that for?"  
  
"For faking it after you came to."  
  
Holding Jeeter against the skimmer, one massive hand in the middle of his chest, Riddle patted him down with the other and removed a small dagger from one boot and a stun gun from the other. He handed them to Jenna and she placed them in the map box with the liquor.  
  
"If you got anything else, Jeeter, you better hand it over. You aren't going to like what happens if you don't."  
  
Jeeter was thoughtful for about half a second and then pointed to his waist.  
  
"The belt buckle."  
  
"Take it off, spring it and hand it to me."  
  
Jeeter, taking great care not to make any sudden move, unclipped the face of his belt buckle, and pressed the center of a flower in its deeply carved decorative pattern with his middle finger. It depressed slightly. Holding it down, he pressed the center of another with his index finger. With a soft snick, a razor edged blade appeared along the entire length of the upper edge. When Riddle would have taken it, Jenna reached out for it instead. She checked both sides but the mechanism was hidden inside. She held it out to Jeeter.  
  
"Please show me how to withdraw it."  
  
Jeeter looked to Riddle for permission. Receiving a nod, he took the buckle and, holding it so that Jenna could see clearly, pushed the first flower center and held it while he placed the edge of the blade against his heavy leather belt and pushed it back into the buckle. Jenna saw a slight twitch in the second flower center as the blade locked into place. He held it out and again Jenna took it. She sprung and withdrew it several times, using the platform of one shoe to reset it, then addressed Jeeter again.  
  
"I would like to acquire some of these, Mr. Jeeter. The craftsmanship is excellent. Where did you purchase it?"  
  
As Jeeter replied, Jenna knew he was attempting to use her interest to give himself a better chance of surviving the coming interrogation. But, there had been a brief shine of pride in his eyes at her appreciation of the weapon.  
  
"I made it. It's kinda ... a hobby. Made one for a lady friend that was one of those hair things ... you know .... to hold it up on top. I could make you one like that ....... or ......... look, I can figure out how to put a blade in just about anything ....... you just tell me what you want ..... Be real happy to do that ......"  
  
Jeeter's voice trailed off and he was looking frightened again. Jenna added the buckle to the map box and then stepped around and unlocked the driver-side door while Riddle allowed Jeeter to crawl behind the seats on his own power. Her mind was busy digesting what she had just learned about the small man. After Riddle had settled himself in the other seat, instead of immediately starting the skimmer, she turned and addressed Jeeter again.  
  
"Mr. Jeeter, with a talent like that, why aren't you employed as a legitimate craftsman?"  
  
When Jeeter just stared at her open mouthed, Riddle prodded him.  
  
"She really doesn't know. Tell her."  
  
Jeeter shook his head in disbelief but proceeded to explain.  
  
"It's the Guild. You gota have schooling, the official kind. My folks, rest their souls, didn't hold with anything official. Lot'sa us down here like that. Duck the census takers. Have their babies at home so it don't get reported and the social workers start bugging you. Don't take no dole, no matter how hungry you get. Herb woman insteada a doctor. All kinda stuff like that to keep off the computers."  
  
Riddle fixed Jeeter with a hard stare. Jenna marveled at how he could accomplish that so well through those impenetrable lenses. It had been the same for her in the bar. You just knew when he was staring holes through you.  
  
"Tell her the rest of it. The Guild doesn't take anyone with a police record either. Not even a juvie one."  
  
Jenna watched with amusement as Jeeter actually bristled at Riddle.  
  
"I ain't got no record! Ain't no clubber alive fast enough to catch the Jeeter!"  
  
Riddle scowled threateningly but Jenna could see the twitch of his jaw muscle as he suppressed a grin. Then his face became a cold mask and he turned his attention to her. There was anger and disgust in his voice and it was all aimed at her.  
  
"Let's go where we're going and get this over with."  
  
How interesting. Mr. Riddle wasn't as cold blooded as he wanted to seem. He found developing any level of rapport with someone they would most likely have to torture and kill distressing. She placed a gentle hand on his thigh for a brief moment to request his patience before turning back to Jeeter. His total non-existence in the official records intrigued her. It reinforced her thoughts concerning a possible non-violent solution to their current situation. She had found much to like in the little man.  
  
"Mr. Jeeter, if it were possible for you to become a legitimate craftsman but to have that chance you would have to leave this planet tonight, you would have to give up everything you have, everyone one you know and you could never return, would you do it?"  
  
Jeeter was silent for several minutes. Jenna waited patiently. This wasn't something that should be rushed. When he finally spoke, he demonstrated the intelligence Jenna had suspected. He also demonstrated a knowledge of what was going on that she hadn't.  
  
"A contract like Barrol's?"  
  
"Similar. You will serve as a weapons maker and what ever other duties for which your talents may be suitable. In return I will provide passage off planet, a new identity and any training, monies and references necessary for you to begin a new life."  
  
"And I turn G to you to get it?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Done."  
  
Jeeter immediately began to do a core dump.  
  
"Like I said, I was to watch you, follow you until I was sure how the meet was going; if Barrol was gonna take the contract or not. That's all I'm supposed to know. But G, he talks to himself, like when he's try to figure things out. And me, to him I'm kinda like a piece'a furniture, you know, so I hear a lota stuff he don't know I'm hearing. He's had you followed before. Knows where you live. Said something about it being a fancy estate. Talked about a husband paying big credits to keep a woman as fine as you. Got that right, he did, the slime."  
  
Jenna couldn't keep her eyes from widening at this. Dr. Fenton had given her the code name "Alice" and she certainly seemed to have fallen down the rabbit hole. First Riddle, then the bartender, then more Riddle - a lot more Riddle - and now Jeeter's comments. Restyling her hair, a little lipstick and eye shadow, changing her clothes and wearing contacts instead of her glasses; those things couldn't have made that much difference. She was still the same too tall, too strong, too intelligent, too capable, too independent, too dominant, too everything unfeminine that she had always been.  
  
Or was she? What was causing her extreme physical and emotional reactions to Riddle, a man she had just met? Even Carl, to whom she had been engaged for three years and fully intended to marry until he suddenly eloped with Nora, had never had such a profound effect on her. But there was more. Since her first tentative venture into this wildly eclectic, overly energetic, very disordered and somewhat sinister environment in search of the necessary black-market goods and services, she had experienced a sense of calm surety and easy confidence that she had never experienced in the precisely designed, logically ordered, ultimately secure world that was supposed to be her own. All of this was touching her on the deepest, most basic levels of her self-identity and she was finding that very confusing. She was dragged away from these disturbing thoughts as Jeeter continued.  
  
"But that ain't all. He's planning trouble for Barrol, too. G figures that he's got bounty on him somewhere. Didn't care about it long as Barrol was earning him big commissions but he goes off planet be no more commissions. G figures on two payoffs in one bag if you two agree on that contract."  
  
Jenna knew what had to be done concerning Mr. G. While he was no threat to her or the others at the moment, as soon as their pictures were printed in every newspaper on the planet he would surely recognize her. Also, he was an immediate threat to Mr. Riddle. However, she was curious to learn what Jeeter's opinion might be.  
  
"Now that you are in that bag with us, Mr. Jeeter, what do you suggest we do?"  
  
He didn't hesitate.  
  
"I can go tell him the meet didn't happen, buy us a few days maybe. Or I can take Barrol in with me. Take care'a it proper like."  
  
Jenna started the engine of the skimmer and snapped on her safety harness.  
  
"I believe that 'proper like' is best. Where should I land when we arrive at Mr. G's?"  
  
"The dance club down the street will be rockin'. The only cameras he'll be really watching are the alley ones. Just go in like a ground car."  
  
Just as Jeeter finished speaking, the skimmer's security screen lit up. There were three red blips, all at ground level, forming a rough triangle around the skimmer's location. With her heart in her throat, she increased the zone range. Six more red blips appeared, all to the east of the original three. Mr. G's was to the west. Jenna hopped the skimmer. 


	4. Chapter 4 Alas, Freddie G

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 4 - ALAS, FREDDIE G.  
Riddick saw the screen flash to life and the woman punch a key on the board attached to it. Then he saw shock on her face and her hand shoot toward the directional shifter. It gave him a split second's warning before the skimmer shot straight up like a rocket. He clawed at the safety harness and managed to get it fastened around himself before what he knew was coming next did. Jamming on the brake, she made a quick entry on the navigation console, slammed the shifter into forward and stomped the accelerator again. The skimmer side-slipped sickeningly then did an exceptional imitation of a bullet. An invisible bullet. She hadn't engaged the running lights.  
  
Jeeter hadn't been as lucky. Riddick heard him hit the floor, the roof, a side wall and finally the back wall of the storage compartment.  
  
"Jeeeeesssssuuuuuuussss, Laaaaaaadyyyyyyyy."  
  
Riddick had to agree. He was probably going to have bruises from the badly adjusted harness. Jeeter was going to look like he had been tie-dyed. Who had taught her to fly? Some hyped up supply shuttle jockey? From the instructions she tossed over her shoulder to Jeeter, he decided that was it.  
  
"Secure yourself with the cargo net, Mr. Jeeter. We are descending in the same manner."  
  
Riddick gritted his teeth when, within seconds, she jammed the brake again, slapped the shift and the skimmer side-slipped again and dropped like a rock. She braked and the skimmer ended up hovering perfectly at ground car level. Images of what would have happened if the braking signal failed to connect or picked the wrong retros to connect to flashed through Riddick's mind. He shrugged. Hell, they would have been dead before they could have felt the impact.  
  
Then he turned his head. They were in the mouth of an alley. The steel and cement walls of the buildings stood barely three feet away on either side of the skimmer. He rubbed his hands over his head, just to keep them busy; to keep them off of her soft throat. It didn't help much. It just wasn't the same with all that hair. A groaned comment from the storage area helped more.  
  
"I think I'm gonna puke."  
  
Ignoring Jeeter, Riddick turned to look at the woman. She was focused on the same display screen, her fingers dancing over its keyboard. He breathed deeply, calming himself. The screen occupying her wasn't standard equipment. Checking the rest of the control console, he saw that most of it wasn't standard. Even the information data link had been modified, having a full keyboard instead of the usual idiot pad. When she turned to it and started making inquiries, it was apparent that it had been significantly modified internally as well.  
  
He waited patiently until she gently dropped the skimmer to the pavement, locked down the drive and relaxed back into her seat.  
  
"You want to explain?"  
  
With the need for concentration gone, her facial muscles relaxed. Her face took on an expression of pure joy and satisfaction. Riddick had seen the same face on fighter pilots just down out of a dog fight. As she turned to look at him, her movements were slow, languid; a reverse reaction to the adrenalin high she had just experienced. And, she was pumping pheromones again. He had seen that reaction, too, in many of those pilots: face of death = need to breed. Damn, that was an interesting way for a woman to be hard wired.  
  
"Surely. Move closer so you can see the displays."  
  
Riddick moved closer, real close. At that moment he was more interested in her than in any display. Then there were sounds of Jeeter clambering forward and Riddick found himself staring into his sharp face across the bridge of the woman's nose. The man gave him a smart-assed smirk and then spoke.  
  
"Which screen, Lady?"  
  
Riddick made a mental note to have an extremely serious conversation with Jeeter later as he turned to look at the display she indicated. It was the one that had lit up just before she kicked the skimmer in the ass. She hit the 'back' button several times.  
  
"This was us" She pointed to a white blip in the middle of the screen then pointed at a collection of red blips and continued. "These are ground vehicles broadcasting government tracer codes. We are completely shielded from electronic detection but not visual. Thus, the hop."  
  
Jeeter reacted first.  
  
"Nine cars ah clubbers?! Holy mother have mercy."  
  
She nodded in agreement.  
  
"Once we landed, I hacked their command computer."  
  
She indicated the second display, the one that should have been a simple link to TIS, Traveler's Information System.  
  
"It is an operation against this location."  
  
She punched up a local map with a bright red blip at a position identified as '2006 E. Sperry Blvd'. Riddick relaxed and moved back to his own seat. It wasn't the bar where he and the woman had met, his loft nor Freddie G's. Jeeter supplied the identification of what it was.  
  
"It's Tio's. He musta smuggled in something that really pissed 'em off."  
  
Riddick tensed again. One of the things Tio had smuggled onto Derius 4 had been him. That had been over three years ago and he wouldn't have given it a second thought if Jeeter hadn't just told them that Freddie G was talking bounty. It was time to see just how much the two-faced fucker had done about that.  
  
"How's the clubber traffic near us?"  
  
She turned back to the first display and tapped a few keys.  
  
"It is still clear. All activity is well to the east and heading south toward the reported target."  
  
"Then we better hop for Freddie G's, get our business done and get out of this area completely."  
  
As Riddick reached for the safety harness, Jeeter chortled and pointed out the windshield of the skimmer.  
  
"Hell, Barrol. That's G's alley right in fronta you. Lady's a Hot Stick."  
  
That was the flat truth; a Hot Stick with a skimmer that had a hack system instead of an information link, a security package and surveillance shield that any smuggler would kill for and that had been stripped of its proximity safeties so it could be flown like a Special Forces infiltrator. It solved a big problem for him when she climbed out of the skimmer at the same time he did. There was no way he wanted to let her out of his sight.  
  
Jeeter, following quickly on her heels, didn't see it that way.  
  
"Oh, no, Lady. You don't wanta be part of this."  
  
In the time Riddick had been taking contracts from Freddie G, he had never seen Jeeter have a thought of his own. Now, not only had he turned G, not that Riddick trusted that very much, he was playing protector to the woman. That "Lady" was capitalized; like it was a title not just a simple noun.  
  
"But I must, Mr. Jeeter. I will not send you and Mr. Barrol to do something in which I am not willing to participate."  
  
Riddick wasn't buying that.  
  
"More like she wants to know who Freddie has been talking to at that fancy estate you mentioned, Jeeter."  
  
He was a little unnerved when she stepped in front of him, staring into his shades. Her expression was as serious as death.  
  
"No. Mr. Barrol. There is nothing, no one, at that location that can be connected even indirectly to me by Mr. G. It is a very exclusive art gallery and auction house, very exclusive and very discrete. If you need a baser explanation for my accompanying you, I need to know how his actions may have complicated the process of supplying your new identity. Then again, you may consider this the beginning of the education I require." She turned away from him. "Mr. Jeeter, please lead the way. I will follow Mr. Barrol."  
  
And that's the way it went. Jeeter pointed out the locations of G's cameras and then scampered down the alley and began pounding on a signal pad beside a heavy steel door. Riddick picked a good deep shadow as close as possible to it and kept the woman safely behind him. As they waited, Riddick wondered if Jeeter was as smart as he seemed or if he would be stupid enough to turn them to G as soon as he got behind that door. He might think that the woman was an easy take but he had to know Riddick's, or rather Barrol's, reputation for getting to his target no matter what the security.  
  
There was a loud buzz and Jeeter jerked the door open and entered. Then, the flood lights over the door went out. Riddick gave the woman last minute instructions, "Stay close and quiet. Don't touch anything.", pulled off his shades and rushed the door. He arrived just in time to hear Jeeter explaining the lights.  
  
"It's those cheap bulbs, boss. You shoulda got the long lifers."  
  
G's oily voice answered over the intercom.  
  
"Shut up, you useless shit. Fix it. If you dawdle at it, I'll dock your pay. I'm in the office."  
  
Riddick smelled the little man's anger. His turning G so easily suddenly made a lot more sense. When G wasn't putting on his act for the public, he was a vicious bastard. Riddick was surprised when the woman reached past him. He hadn't thought that she would be able to follow him that easily. She placed her hand on Jeeter's shoulder, squeezed it gently and then pulled her hand back. Though the man didn't appear to notice, it seemed to Riddick that he stood taller as he walked across the large storage room and led them into the rest of G's home. Damn, she sure knew how to push buttons. Riddick suddenly questioned just how real that sexually naive face she had given him was.  
  
They walked into G's office. He was standing at the open door of a large walk-in vault with his back to them. Riddick had him, slammed him to the floor and knelt with a knee on his spine before G could make a sound. He did try to fight back and there was more strength in his tall slim body than Riddick had thought. But not enough. Keeping his knee firmly in place, Riddick grabbed a handful of G's lanky, long black hair and pulled his head back. He put his shiv against the artery in the exposed throat.  
  
"We need to talk Freddie. Your choice. Talk now or bleed and then talk."  
  
G laughed.  
  
Now, what the fuck was that. Riddick used his best snarl.  
  
"What's so funny, Freddie?"  
  
G's long, pale face was twisted in glee. He looked like those pictures of Satan that one of Riddick's foster mothers had used to frighten them all into behaving like she want them to. The pictures hadn't worked on him.  
  
"It doesn't work that way, you Neanderthal. I'm a bleeder, a hemophiliac, if you can understand that many syllables. If you start cutting, I'll be dead long before you get any answers. You can't even beat anything out of me. Internal bleeds are just as quick."  
  
Jeeter confirmed this.  
  
"That's right. He get's a paper cut, it's ER time."  
  
Riddick was trying to figure out where to go from here when the woman spoke.  
  
"I believe I have a solution to this dilemma."  
  
G reacted immediately.  
  
"Thank god, a voice of reason. Now, let me up so we can discuss credits."  
  
Riddick grinned. Was he the only one who could hear what was going on underneath that deep, sweet voice of her's?  
  
"Mr. Jeeter, if you will assist Mr. Barrol, please. I need Mr. G held down exactly as he is. I suggest you restrain his hands and legs, keeping his body stretched between you."  
  
Riddick felt Jeeter land on G's legs, sitting across his ankles. Sheathing his shiv, he grabbed G's wrists and dragged them with him as he took a position kneeling on the floor beyond the man's head. G hadn't struggled. He didn't seem to have understood what was happening until it was too late. Now, he was twisting his head at odd angles trying to get a look at the woman's face while he worked very hard to convince her that paying him off was the only reasonable way to handle this.  
  
Riddick watched as the woman went to G's desk and selected an unsharpened pencil and a hand sized paper weight from the items on top of it. He noticed that she was very careful not to touch anything else. Maybe that was because of his advice but maybe she was already experienced at not leaving finger prints. Leaving the desk, she walked behind him. He felt her hand slide inside his belt. Oh, damn! He struggled to keep is mind on the business at hand. Then he felt his shiv being lifted from the sheath.  
  
She knelt beside G. Her face was impassive, emotionless. She used the shiv to slit his shirt from tail to collar and laid it to each side, baring his back.  
  
"You were quite accurate, Mr. G, concerning the effects of cutting and heavy blows. However, you didn't mention minimal tissue bleeds, small amounts of bruising. There are some very effective ways to create a great deal of pain with only that level of physical damage. I will offer you the same choice Mr. Barrol gave you. You may answer my questions now or suffer a great deal and then answer them."  
  
G laughed again but it lacked the confident tone of the one he had thrown at the 'Neanderthal'.  
  
"That's a bad bluff. It's going to cost you even more credits than I had planned on, bitch."  
  
There was fear under his bravado.  
  
Riddick locked his hold on G and focused his full attention on the woman. She ran a finger down the shoulder blade nearest her. Having located the spot she was searching for, she replaced the finger with the eraser end of the pencil then struck the other end sharply with the paper weight. It didn't seem to Riddick that she had put much force behind it at all.  
  
G screamed. A long high pitched scream of agony. Riddick felt the arm attached to that shoulder jerk and go limp while the other almost wrenched itself out of his grasp. Jeeter was lifted completely off of the floor but managed to keep control of G's legs. The woman added her strength to the effort, pressing down on G's back until he stopped bucking.  
  
"Next will be the other shoulder. Then the sciatic clusters in your hips. Then I will begin working my way up your spine. Do I continue with this distasteful task or will you agree to cooperate?"  
  
G cooperated. Riddick and Jeeter flipped him over on his back and he answered every question the woman put to him without hesitation. The fancy estate had been just the dead end that the woman had told Riddick it would be. More to his interest, G had been waiting for the outcome of the contract meet before making any moves to identify Barrol. G was still trying desperately to make some kind of deal to be paid for his silence as Riddick reached for his shiv, his eyes already focused on the vulnerable neck. G screeched.  
  
"Oh, God! No! In the name of heaven, no!"  
  
The touch of the woman's hand on his restrained Riddick. When he looked at her, she gave him a quick shake of her head. Shit! She looked sick, all pale and clammy. He opened his mouth to tell her to get her ass back to the skimmer while he did what had to be done. Then, he saw the cold determination in her eyes. He watched as she removed one of her earrings, taking the spool shaped dangle between her middle and index fingers and her thumb, like a hype would hold a syringe. Turning G's head toward her, she placed her fingers against the end of his nose with the bottom of the spool centered in his left nostril.  
  
They stared at each other for a brief moment. G's expression totally confused and pleading for mercy; her's, sadly compassionate. She compressed the cylinder of the spool to half its length then quickly stood up.  
  
"Barrol, Jeeter; release him."  
  
G sat up and made an attempt to stand. About half way there, his face contorted with pain and he clutched at his head with his still functioning hand. He collapsed, convulsing violently for a few seconds before his body relaxed in death. His empty eyes stared at the ceiling. A small stream of blood began running out of his nose.  
  
"It will appear as .... as nothing but a natural death ..... a cerebral hemorrhage. The effect was .... much faster than ..... than I had been told to expect. His hemophilia ...... it must have had some effect on the mechanism of the drug. It should have been painless."  
  
Riddick knew she was talking, forcing her thoughts into a logical pattern, to keep her own control rather than for his and Jeeter's benefit. But whatever was going on inside her head wasn't showing on her face. She looked thoughtful, troubled but calm. He retrieved his shiv and stepped close to her. Taking the earring from her hand, he expanded the spool and rolled it between his fingers.  
  
"Was this for me?"  
  
"No!"  
  
Her voice was sharp. She seemed insulted. Her eyes matched her voice but that proved nothing.  
  
"Tell the truth, sweet thing. You weren't expecting trouble with G. What would it have taken for you to shove this thing up my nose? Would you have used it just because I didn't take the contract or only if I had tried to make you pay up on all that skin you're showing?"  
  
She took the spool from his hand.  
  
"Neither. I have not told you enough for you to be a threat to me even now. If you had not taken the contract I would simply have bid you goodnight and Godspeed. If you had tried to rape me I would have used the other earring. It contains a strong, but non-lethal, sedative."  
  
"Then why did you have that one?"  
  
She clipped the earring back onto her earlobe as she spoke.  
  
"To put up my own nose if I were betrayed. Since I no longer have that option, I would like to leave for somewhere safer as soon as possible. Are we finished here?"  
  
Riddick was hit hard by the cold certainty in her voice as she spoke of suicide. The image of her laying there like G formed in his mind. He didn't like it. Thrusting it aside he concentrated on her question. At least one problem had been solved by the confrontation. He was certain that the woman was in control of herself to the point he would trust her at the controls of that skimmer. If it had been a standard model he would have flown it himself. As much as it was obviously modified, he didn't want to take that chance. He turned and picked up the pencil and paper weight, intending to wipe them clean of finger prints Then something else caught his attention. Or rather, the lack of something else.  
  
Jeeter, the little weasel, had disappeared. 


	5. Chapter 5 Down the Rabbit Hole

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 5 - DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE  
Another human being, I just killed another human being. He was laying there helpless, pleading for his life, and I killed him. There was no emotion. I wasn't angry. I didn't hate him. I wasn't frightened of him. If anything, I pitied him. And I killed him. I committed murder, cold blooded murder. I did it easily. I did it capably. And I don't feel a thing.  
  
No, that's not accurate. I do feel an amount of regret. Not regret for having done it. Just regret that it had to be done. Not a significant amount of regret either. Not enough to make me hesitate should it become necessary to kill again.  
  
Even before, when Riddle reached for his knife and I knew it was time to do it, it wasn't the thought of killing G that caused me feel ill. It was the thought that I wouldn't be able to kill him.  
  
But that fear, that doubt, will never plague me again. I am a killer and now I know it. I know why the large cats always fascinated me, why I chose criminal psychology as my focus field, why only the most violent of them interested me. I know why I never felt like I belonged in the world I was born to, why my imagination always came fully to life only in the violence and blood of the ancient sagas and legends, why the most lawless eras of history drew me, why walking these mean streets felt like coming home. Now, I know why Dr. Fenton chose me to be Alice.  
"Was this for me?"  
"No!"  
Sheeeze. What will it take to convince this man that I am not lying to him! But why should he trust me? Why should one killer trust another? Is that what has been happening? Did he sense from the first that I was capable of this? He uses his senses like an animal. Did one predator smell another?  
"Tell the truth, sweet thing. You weren't expecting trouble with G. What would it have taken for you to shove this thing up my nose? Would you have used it just because I didn't take the contract or only if I had tried to make you pay up on all that skin you're showing?"  
Well that's better. He isn't accusing me of being after his bounty. He's accusing me of being willing to kill for no good reason. .......... and I wouldn't! Oh Riddle, you beautiful paranoid bastard. I wouldn't. I wouldn't. I may be a killer but I am not a psychopathic killer. I have to have a reason to kill, a reason with no options. I'm the sheep dog, not the wolf. Not yet.  
"Neither. I have not told you enough for you to be a threat to me even now. If you had not taken the contract I would simply have bid you goodnight and Godspeed. If you had tried to rape me I would have used the other earring. It contains a strong, but non-lethal, sedative."  
"Then why did you have that one?"  
Deal with this truth, Mr. Badass.  
"To put up my own nose if I were betrayed. Since I no longer have that option, I would like to leave for somewhere safer as soon as possible. Are we finished here?"  
Well, well. I think he is actually shocked. I like that. A bit of revenge for the way he has been twisting my mind all evening.  
She watched as he picked up the pencil and paperweight she had used on G and understood his intent. Then he scanned the room quickly. Thrusting them into her hands, he grabbed her arm and pulled her out of the room and down the hall toward the storeroom. She resisted just enough to get an explanation.  
  
"Jeeter split. He might turn us just to cover his own ass. We need to hop as soon as we get to the skimmer."  
  
She didn't want to believe that of the little man but her mind was immediately busy planning the best way to leave the city and reach the small independent port where the "'Butch Cassidy'" was hangered. They were approaching the door to the storeroom when it shot open and Jeeter was speeding toward them, his arms full of tote sacks. He jerked to a stop. A frown scrunched his face. She couldn't decide if he knew what they had thought or was thinking the same thing about them. Then he looked at Riddle's hold on her arm and his face relaxed. Whatever he had been thinking, he didn't mention it. He shoved the sacks at Riddle who automatically released his hold on Jenna to take them.  
  
"You start with the safe while I get my personals then I'll help you." He turned to Jenna. His voice softened. "Would be a help if the skimmer was closer. Is that ok with you, Lady?"  
  
Jenna hid a smile. Jeeter had spoken to Riddle as if they were now equals but his manner with her definitely said 'boss'. She was willing to accept that relationship for the present but was extremely pleased that he hadn't used the same whiny subservient tone that he had used with G.  
  
"We don't need the money, Mr. Jeeter."  
  
He looked at her with amazement. Then, his expression changed and he spoke to her very much like a kindly teacher might speak to a novice student.  
  
"No matter how much you got, Lady, a little more don't hurt. 'Sides, if we don't take it, the clubbers will and then they'll start wondering why we didn't."  
  
"Then by all means, pack it up. I'll bring the skimmer to the back door."  
  
After Jenna powered up the skimmer, she took time to check the security scanner. All was still clear in their area. She treated the skimmer as a ground car. Pulling into the street she swung it around and backed into G's alley. Leaving the drive idling, she popped the hatch of the storage compartment and flipped on a set of dim red lights to mark the hatch's location for the men. She had barely settled in to monitor the scanner when Riddle appeared carrying two soft-sided satchels, obviously Jeeter's personals. She needn't have bothered with the light. He had removed his shades. Jenna couldn't help lifting a questioning eyebrow at him as he deposited Jeeter's satchels in the skimmer.  
  
"Seems that my taste in loot isn't up to Jeeter's standards. He's sorting and packing and I'm carrying. You sure got to him. I've never seen him act like anything but a door mat and now he's walking tall. You wouldn't want to share your secret, would you, sweet thing?"  
  
Jenna decided that Riddle was a most irritating man. If he wasn't interrogating her, he was seducing her. He even seduced her while he was interrogating her. Or was that interrogated while he seduced. Whatever! It was irritating!  
  
"There is no secret, Mr. Riddle. I treat him with respect and common courtesy. Most people react positively to that. You really should try it yourself. I would certainly appreciate it if you did."  
  
She couldn't believe that she had lost control and lashed out at him in that manner. Intellectually, she knew that the best way to handle his insolence, his familiarity, was to ignore it. But Riddle was reaching her on emotional levels that no one else had ever approached. She cursed herself for so stupidly challenging him as she watched his silvered eyes glow even brighter.  
  
"Oh, I am treating you with courtesy and respect, sweet thing. If I wasn't, thirty seconds after we left that bar I would have put you against a wall."  
  
It took a moment for her to understand the meaning of his words. She stared at him in shocked silence for several more before being able to reply in a choked whisper.  
  
"I thought you said that you weren't a rapist?"  
  
His eyes increased in intensity once again and a confident smile parted his lips.  
  
"I'm not."  
  
Then he was gone and she was staring into the dark of the empty alley. Her imagination ran wild. His massive arms flexing as he lifted her. His hard body thrust between her legs, holding her suspended against rough concrete. His large, well shaped hands touching, caressing. His expressive, sensuous lips ............ She felt like her whole body was on fire.  
  
She wanted to scream, she wanted to run, she wanted to pound the instrument panel into trash with her fists. She knew with complete certainty that he was right; that it wouldn't have been rape. What it would have been she had no experience to tell her and she ached with need to find out.  
  
She cursed Dr. Fenton. She cursed Inter-Galactic Enterprises. She cursed everyone and everything that had any part in bringing her to this time and place; to the terrible truths she was being forced to acknowledge about herself. First she was a cold blooded killer and now she was a slut; a bitch in heat for a man she didn't even know. Willing to be taken in an alley like a whore.  
  
Part of her wanted to deny everything that had happened, crawl back into the pristine, simple world of the Institute, sell her soul to Galactic for the privilege of hiding there forever. But that wasn't possible and she knew it. Her own personal Pandora's Box had been opened and, just as in the fable, there was no way to undo that. However awful it might become, she had no choice but to continue the metamorphosis.  
  
As she attained a tentative level of calm, she realized that the only person involved that she hadn't cursed was Riddle. That would have been like cursing thunder for its deafening roll or lightening for its deadly strike.  
****************************************************  
Well, that was certainly as subtle as a sledge hammer. Riddick pulled his shades down as he neared the brightly lit vault. He couldn't figure her out and that made him even more suspicious than he normally was, made him want to push until that shell around her broke and he could see what was inside.  
  
That was a cold piece of business with G. It was her first kill and it bothered her, he could tell that much. But the way it bothered her had sent chills through him. That look on her face as she shot that shit up G's nose. Riddick had seen that look before. He had seen it on the face of a medic kneeling in the mud, giving a screaming, blown to pieces kid a mercy hypo.  
  
And she would have used that shit on herself. He was sure of that. In all Riddick's time in the slam, on the run, even in that muddy hell where he had met that medic, the thought of taking himself out had never crossed his mind. What ever the woman was it wasn't something as simple as a runaway wife. That could have been handled as easily as she dealt with G. Whatever she was running from was big and dangerous, powerful and connected. And she wasn't running alone. He had known that as soon as he had catalogued the modifications to that tricked out skimmer.  
  
He knew that she would reveal the answers to all his question in her own time, when she felt safe enough to do it. All it would take was the patience to wait for that. Usually Riddick had a great capacity for that. One lesson the slam taught you was patience. If you didn't learn it you went crazy or died. But now he found himself very short on it. He tried to chalked it up his need for this contract to be righteous but he knew that wasn't all of it. He knew that the woman was a big part of it, too.  
  
As he entered the vault he was surprised at the number of tote sacks that Jeeter had packed and waiting for him. There were six along the right side and two more beginning a row on the left.  
  
"Damn, Jeeter, that skimmer won't hold this whole vault."  
  
Jeeter didn't even look up from the stack of velvet lined trays he was stripping into a tote at the speed of light.  
  
"Take the two on the left and anything else I put over there first. The stuff on the right is local script, no good once we're off planet. What we can't fit in the clubbers will enjoy. Pisses 'em if you don't leave 'em some grease."  
  
Riddick bowed to Jeeter's superior knowledge in this area and continued ferrying tote sacks. The only other exchange of words he had with Jeeter came when he caught him shoving something wrapped in velvet into the inside pocket of his jacket.  
  
"Taking a little private stash, Jeeter?"  
  
The little man jumped at the sound of his voice and turned. The look on his face was almost pleading.  
  
"It's special. For Lady's blade. A surprise."  
  
Damned if Riddick didn't believe him. With a shrug he picked up another load and headed back for the skimmer. When Jeeter finally decided that the vault had been properly looted, the storage compartment of the skimmer was almost two thirds full. The last trip was a couple of sacks of the Derius script that Jeeter used to pad the nest he intended to occupy. The clubbers were going to have a good payday on this one. Riddick smiled as Jeeter carefully cinched the majority of the cargo net tightly around the loot while keeping a sufficient area of it in reserve to secure himself.  
  
Throughout the whole operation the woman had kept her attention tightly focused on the security panel. It wasn't until Riddick was belted into the seat beside her that she again acknowledged his existence.  
  
"I need the address of your lodgings, Mr. Riddle. I hope there is room left for everything you wish to bring with you since we can not risk a second trip."  
  
This didn't fit with his plans.  
  
"It's 1987 S. 4th. But you just drop me off and give me a safe meet for about a week from now. I'll need the upfront money, too. Jeeter count me out 50,000 of the script."  
  
The woman looked at him but there was no suspicion in her expression. He was surprised to find that pleased him.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Got to do something about my eyes. No matter what you can do about a new identity, this shine screams con."  
  
"What do you intend to do about it?"  
  
He could see that it wasn't idle curiosity.  
  
"I was going to settle for a reverse job but, with this money and some luck, I think I can get a righteous job to replace it. Whichever way it goes, I'll make the meet."  
  
"I have the capability of supplying you with state of the art implanted refractive night vision that is undetectable in lighted conditions and will not interfere with your vision in those conditions, either. We will consider it part of the identity package promised." She was punching the address into the nav console as she spoke. "Is there any other reason that you can not accompany me immediately?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Good."  
  
That was short and to the point. He expected her to pull another gut wrenching hop. Instead, she kept the skimmer at ground car level and drove to the location he had given her at a completely normal pace. There was no further conversation.  
  
It didn't take him long to pack; just one small chest of drawers to empty into a satchel. He could have left any of it, all of it, behind; had done just that often enough. But a few changes of clothes wouldn't hurt since he wasn't running alone this time. With the satchel in hand, he picked up a small stack of books off of the table and left.  
  
As he handed the satchel to Jeeter, he noticed that his belt buckle cover was back in place. Riddick assumed that the sticker and stun gun were also in his possession. After buckling himself in, he gestured at the woman with the books.  
  
"Library drop box at 4th and Eldridge."  
  
It had taken him a very complicated sob story about his 'accident' and resulting light sensitivity to get the librarian at the Eldridge branch to allow him access to the bound sections and a long time proving to her his real interest in knowledge before she allow him to do more than read under her watchful eye. Somehow he felt obligated to justify her trust by returning the books.  
  
As the woman stared at the books, he could feel her curiosity all the way across the skimmer and took care to see that the titles were turned away from her as he placed them in his lap.  
  
"The ship has a rather extensive library; spools of course, but also real .... bound books. If you have any special interests there is still time to see that they are added."  
  
Now, that was better. That was a personal question. Also, she had revealed that, like him, she had a preference for 'real' books. He had felt that way long before his shine job made spool readers painful. He decided to let her curiosity work on her.  
  
"I'll let you know after I check it out."  
  
As soon as he had returned to the skimmer after dropping the books, he saw that she had prepared it for flight mode. Jeeter was clutching a sick bag and already looking slightly green just from anticipation. The initial take-off and directional skew was possibly worse than before but after that the bullet like flight was smooth. The woman used it to make a radio call. Riddick suspected that the send was encoded by six and probably bounced around through quite a few systems to prevent a trace. Still, she wasn't using clear talk.  
  
"This is Alice. Who's on the com?"  
  
"March Hare coming at you, blondie. How's tricks?"  
  
Whoever the March Hare was, his lively tenor voice was adult but young and he didn't sound like an encyclopedia.  
  
"I have secured the Key. I have also added the Door Mouse to the guest list. I am going home and need you and the Walrus immediately to help with the catering. Please inform the Mad Hatter to start the tea party at his discretion and inform us when the table needs to be set."  
  
"Little snag, Alice. The Queen of Hearts has just about bitched the Carpenter into taking a new job."  
  
"Put an earring in her tea. His too, if necessary."  
  
"Which one?"  
  
"The right one! Alice out."  
  
"Shit! March Hare out."  
  
Riddick did a memory check. The woman had used her left earring on G.  
  
"Just how many coming to the party, sweet thing?"  
  
She didn't smile at him but she didn't glare either.  
  
"Seven, including myself. You and Mr. Jeeter are eight and nine. Welcome to Wonderland, Mr. Barrol."  
  
She had tried to make it sound like a joke but Riddick heard the troubled undertone that she was trying to hide. 


	6. Chapter 6 A Cage is A Cage is A Cage

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 6 - A CAGE IS A CAGE IS A CAGE  
Alice was going home. It had felt that way always, before. The skimmer, the transport, the mother ship, they had belonged to her. Of course the others had been heavily involved in the design and equipment and supply requirements of their own areas but, for the most part, they couldn't communicate with each other much further than "Pass the salt, please." She had been the one to see that it all was done and done properly. She was the one who pulled all of their separate needs and desires into a cohesive whole and made that whole a reality. True, Dr. Fenton - no, must begin to use the new identities - Maximus had given her generous advice and council whenever she requested it. But he had insisted that the decisions be hers, that because of her field of expertise she was the only one capable of handing the personal interactions necessary to acquire, modify and supply their transportation and choose and recruit any required personnel.  
  
In the past months, she had spent more time on the ship than she had at the Institute. Time alone in a titanium-steel world that she was creating. But now the others would be coming. They would take possession of that world. She would become nothing but their chauffeur and social director; piloting them and solving their petty misunderstandings, as she always had, until they reached the sanctuary that Maximus had chosen. Once they reached that sanctuary she would be totally superfluous.  
  
Not that she hadn't often felt that way, a sociologist /psychiatrist /psychologist surrounded by hard scientists. Even Maximus' military logistics/ political science, etc, had concrete, measurable applications and effects. The human psyche was not so observable as the battle field or the ballot box. She had escaped from that into the world of the ships but now that escape was ending.  
  
It suddenly became clear to her that the group's escape from Galactic was no longer enough for her. They were leaving Galactic's cage only to enter a cage of their own design. To accomplish that, they had sent her out into a world they had no will to face, to do what they were not capable of doing. Well, she had tasted that world and she liked it. In the freedom and chaos of it, she had grown, changed. She wasn't knowledgeable enough to survive there yet but she was far too knowledgeable to ever again be satisfied with any cage.   
  
Jenna looked at the man seated beside her. If he was the Key for the group's escape, could he serve as the key to her own personal one as well? But there was much more than that to consider. Yes, if she didn't want to end up an impoverished college professor or something else as equally superfluous and limiting as she had now, there was a great deal more to consider.  
  
Her thoughts were interrupted by an alarm from the nav console. The location of the 'Butch Cassidy' was fast approaching.  
  
"Secure yourselves, gentlemen, we will be going in hot."  
  
The hanger that held the BC was at the farthest end of the port from the buildings that housed the control tower and the port security. The rent on it was cheap because the port authority took no responsibility for any vandalism or theft due to that location. She had her own security systems to deal with that problem and it served her need for privacy very well.  
  
She punched the remote control on the console. Dropping fast, she leveled out just above the tarmac and swooped under the still rising hanger door. She was barely six feet from the bay door of the BC when she brought the skimmer to a motionless hover. Hitting the remote to open the bay, she switched to ground car mode, pulled the skimmer into the huge cargo hold and engaged its lock-downs.  
  
She turned to look at her passengers. Riddle was smiling slightly but his hands were clinched and his knuckles showed white. Jeeter was calmly unfastening the web of cargo net in which he had cocooned himself. He returned her look with one of total confidence.  
  
"So, Hot Stick, where you want me to store our loot while you and Barrol talk pilot stuff?"  
  
'Hot Stick'. Jenna liked that. But something else that Jeeter said caught her attention even more; our loot. Though the consortium the group had formed would always have ample funds, her own contribution and therefore drawing account was very small. A life separate from the group would require much more in start-up money. The loot from G's vault, or at least her share of it, would go a long way to providing that.  
  
"Store it in any of the lockers. Set your own combination on it. Once we reach the mother ship, I'll decide on a safe place until we can divide it into shares. And Mr. Jeeter, ..... those shares are your decision. Mr. Barrol and I would have walked out without any of it."  
  
Jeeter smiled.  
  
"Well, I couldn'ta walked outa there with it on my own so I figure even shares is fair. 'Course anything from now on, you get Captain's share, triple share."  
  
Riddle's rumble of laughter made Jenna jump.  
  
"Now, how do you know about Captain's share, Jeeter?"  
  
"Oh, I filled out a crew for Tio sometimes. G didn't mind 'cause it helped him keep up with what Tio was doing. Lady gets Captain's share, you and me get crew share."  
  
Riddle rumbled again.  
  
"Well, that's what it would be if we were one of Tio's crews but I thought we were supposed to be going clean and legal."  
  
"Oh, yeah."  
  
Jeeter sounded a bit disappointed and Jenna found that she had a totally new set of data to absorb and speculate upon.  
***********************************************************  
Riddick was impressed as the woman escorted him around the outside of the ship. She was in perfect condition. Her trim design was beautiful. It was also very deceptive, hiding the fact that her cargo capacity was the greatest he had ever seen in an in-system freighter. He began to wonder if the ship had more secrets, as many or more than the skimmer, perhaps. He also began to wonder about the mother ship the woman had mentioned. So he asked.  
  
"The 'Hole in the Wall' is a modified Tango class pod freighter. The 'Butch Cassidy' was redesigned to be able to transport whole pods from surface to orbit on this end and orbit to surface on the other. Everything on the Hole was manufactured in different locations, even different planets, and pod transported through several resale transactions before I finally received and transported them to her."  
  
At the words 'pod freighter' an image of the Hunter-Gratzner flashed into Riddick's mind. He shoved it away and concentrated on the rest of what she had said. Tango class was at least seven generations later than the Hunter and a great deal larger with a cargo capacity that was massively greater because the improved Keller-drive units of the Tango class were five times as powerful while taking up less than 10% of the space those of the Hunter had required. They were also the fastest thing out there short of the space warping hyper-drives used by first class passenger liners, impossibly expensive personal yachts, the military and any raider who get his hands on one.  
  
Riddick was, as Jeeter would put it, a Hot Stick with hyper-drive. The mind wrenching twist of it had never disoriented him as it did more than 95% of the human race. In fact, he liked it. But what he had liked a lot more was the fact that this had gotten him out of the fighters, which incidental had gotten him out of the mud. Then a chill went up his spine. It had also been required for this contract.  
  
"That's a good security set up. But tell me something, if this in-system freighter and a Tango class are what you've got, why did you want a pilot who could jockey hyper?"  
  
"Because, Mr. Riddle, the 'Butch Cassidy' and the 'Hole in the Wall' are equipped with both Keller-drive and hyper-drive. I am quite capable with Keller but I will expect you to teach me to 'jockey' the hyper."  
  
Riddick shook his head.   
  
"It isn't that easy. Have you ever went through hyper conscious?"  
  
"Yes. Not a jump. Only the hyper field under laboratory conditions. It was ..... lovely."  
  
Well, 'lovely' wasn't the word Riddick would use to describe his reaction to hyper, more like 'stoned out of your mind with total clarity', but 'lovely' was a lot more acceptable a description than the shrieking horrors that it gave most people. So, the woman was in the same elite 5% that he was. Interesting.  
  
As she gave him a tour of the inside of the ship, he found nothing more that he hadn't expected. It could be as totally invisible to detection as the skimmer, had state of the art security scan and alarm systems and a hackers dream of a communication set up. Also, the ship was armed like a medium class destroyer. But then, as soon as he had known it had hyper, he had been almost certain that it would be armed. He wondered if the 'Hole in the Wall' was tricked out like a battle wagon.  
  
This had started out as a simple deal and it was turning into a spider web. But who was the spider? The woman? No. She had the potential but not the experience. Probably the one she had referred to as the Mad Hatter, the one who needed to be 'informed'. But the woman was his only source of information at the moment. And such a sweet source.  
  
He had been behaving since the exchange in the alley. Maybe it was time to shake things, her, up a little again. They had just entered the gangway leading from the bridge back to the hold. Lengthening his stride to put himself slightly in front of her, he turned sideways and blocked her way with his arm. When she tried to retreat he used the other arm to block that. He stepped toward her and she backed into the bulkhead and was trapped as he pressed his hands against it on either side of her.  
  
"I think that it's time we discussed that 'perfect' identity you promised. Just how do you go about doing that, sweet thing?"  
  
She relaxed against the bulkhead and closed her eyes. Her attitude was resigned patience. Her voice took on the tone often used by bored and overworked civil servants.  
  
"There are forms on the Hole that you have to fill out. The first set will provide a detailed description of the new identity you wish to have: name, of course; education, training, experience, certificates and licenses; preferences in system and planet of origin, systems and planets you wish to claim knowledge of; preference in race, religion and class; etc. I suggest that you do not choose anything that you can not back up with your present knowledge and abilities. The second set of forms will give us a detailed record of your true identity. The more accurate and truthful you are on these forms the more perfect your change of identity will be."  
  
As she was speaking, Riddick had been slowly leaning closer to her. Even though her eyes were closed he knew she was aware of it. He could hear the increasing tension in her voice as she struggled to keep it dully non-responsive. He was sure that the flush slowly creeping up her face wasn't helping her. He was almost cheek to cheek with her when she came to the second set of forms. He whispered his opinion of them with his lips only a breath away from her ear.  
  
"I don't think so, sweet thing. Who I really am is not something that I'm going to tell anyone."  
  
He heard the catch in her breathing before she tried to continue speaking in the same uneffected voice she had started with. She didn't do a very good job of it.  
  
"Mr. Riddle, the secret in changing identities successfully isn't in creating the new one but in preventing the old one from coming back to haunt you. We need to know every possible location in which that old identity is recorded so that we can replace all identifiers with ones that are not yours; DNA, retinal scan, finger prints, even dental and medical records if necessary. Then it doesn't matter what disguises you choose, or for that matter do not choose, to employ. No matter how much you look like you the records will prove that you are not you."  
  
Riddick had slowly moved his face across hers, still not touching her, and now whispered into her other ear.  
  
"Just who is the 'we' that has to know all this."  
  
She gave up all pretense. Her voice was low and throaty.  
  
"Actually .... just the March Hare. .... He's ... the expert hacker."  
  
"But you'd like to know, too, wouldn't you, sweet thing."  
  
"Yes."  
  
The word was almost a moan. Riddick drew back until he could see her face.  
  
"I'll make you a deal. I'll let you see my forms ...." A very heavy purr on that one. ".. if you come up with a new name for me that I like."  
  
Her eyes flew open with shock.  
  
"What?!"  
  
Riddick was quite please with her reaction. With a wicked smile he lowered his arms and backed up a few steps.  
  
"I've used so many aliases, I'm named out. You find one I like enough to live with for the rest of my life and I'll tell you who I really am."  
  
Her face was still flushed but now thoughtful.  
  
"How can I choose a name when I know nothing about you. Can I ask questions? Not anything that would reveal who you are but other things about you?"  
  
"Sure, as long as I don't have to answer if I don't want to ... and I get to ask you questions, too."  
  
She nodded in agreement to that.  
  
"Then what name will you use until we agree on a new one?"  
  
Riddick took advantage of this to remove an irritating barrier that she had been using.  
  
"You can call me Barrol in public, like you do in front of Jeeter, and Riddle in private." He liked hearing her come so close to saying his name. "But you put a 'Mr' on either one again and the deal is off."  
  
With a look of regret, she shook her head.  
  
"Then I'm afraid that it is off." Then she looked embarrassed. "It's the others. ..... it's ....... With the exception of very close acquaintances, only servants and other inferiors are addressed by their surnames only."  
  
She had actually hung her head as she uttered this last. Well, well, the 'lady' was ashamed of her own kind.  
  
"But that's what we are isn't it, Jeeter and me? Hired help from the wrong side of town? Uneducated, uncivilized criminals? Inferior in every way?"  
  
Her head shot up. There was fire in her eyes. She was pissed.  
  
"NO!"  
  
Riddick wasn't going to settle for that.  
  
"No? Then what are we?"  
  
"The epitome of what makes the human race 'top of the food chain' where ever it goes."  
  
Damn. Pithy, cold and savagely eloquent. Also, correct. If he'd of had a troop of 'cappers' on that black planet, the monsters would be well on their way to extinction. But while civilized society was very willing to use that kind of talent for their own purposes, they feared it and degraded it and those who had it. The woman said it as if it were the greatest compliment that anyone could ever be paid.  
  
"And what does that make those 'others'?"  
  
"Sheep."  
  
There wasn't any condemnation in the way she said this. It was just fact, truth, the way the universe was put together.  
  
"And you?"  
  
He had placed his hand on her waist, intending to pull her to him. But before he could do that, she closed the gap between them, stepping into his embrace voluntarily. Riddick had never been in a standing clinch before with a woman standing just as tall as he did. Face to face straight on like this only happened when he had a woman flat on her back under him or had his hands on her butt lifting her off of the floor. He enjoyed having that same perspective while still on his feet and his hands completely free. He was going to have to make sure that she had a closet full of those damn shoes.  
  
"I don't know. I'm not one of them any more but I'm ...... I'm not sure what I am becoming. Will you allow me to use the 'Mr' when I introduce you and when I mention you to them and still make our deal if I promise not to use it when I address you directly?"  
  
Riddick congratulated himself. He had certainly pushed the right button with that idea. Her curiosity was her key. Of course, he had no intention of ever paying off on the deal; no more intention than he had to fill out those second forms for her 'March Hare'. He'd take the righteous shine and the new identity, keep his hairy disguise and make the best of it. The 'deal' would be his excuse for stalling on the forms. At the same time his being able to ask her personal questions with a pretty good chance that she would answer them would be a very enjoyable game.   
  
"Yes. 'Mr' to them, no 'Mr' to me and the deal is on. Now, what's you first question?"  
  
Riddick was hopeful that she would come up with something interesting to ask. She didn't disappoint him. In fact, her question was a lot more interesting that he had planned on.  
  
"All right, .... Riddle." There was a nervous tremor in her voice. "Why don't you just kiss me and get it over with?"  
  
Oh, she was being so brave. Riddick wondered just how brave.  
  
"Because, sweet thing, .. if I kiss you .. it won't be over. ... It will just be starting."  
  
She closed her eyes, her tongue moistening her lips, and signed softly.  
  
"I know."  
  
He moved his lips toward hers very slowly, savoring the moment. Just before they touched a shrill alarm cut through the ship. Her eyes flew open and with a muttered curse, "Son of a fucking bitch! The com.", she tore herself from his arms and ran toward the bridge.  
  
The first shock had been those words coming out of her mouth; the second, the strength he had felt when she pulled free. If that was only hot and bothered and frustrated ........ He was still immersed in some very entertaining speculation when he heard Jeeter's soft cough.  
  
"What are you doing here? Planning on coming to your 'Lady's' rescue?"  
  
Jeeter grinned at him.  
  
"Well, that was the idea. Now, I think I'll just wait a bit. See just who's gonna need rescuing."  
  
The little man disappeared back into the hold before Riddick could even growl at him. Riddick was left standing in the gangway wondering just what in the hell Jeeter thought he was talking about. 


	7. Chapter 7 Getting to Know You Sort Of

Many thanks to those who have given me feedback. Most especially letylyf who is not a PBer but was kind enough to cross over and give me her encouragement.  
THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 7 - GETTING TO KNOW YOU, SORT OF  
Jenna slammed the com key open. A voice immediately emerged from the speaker.  
  
"Gate Security to Cotton Candy. Cotton Candy come in. Over."  
  
Jenna chided herself. She should have informed them to let Benjamin and Syrus through.  
  
"This is Cotton Candy. Do you have my crew coming through? Over."  
  
"Well, maybe yes, maybe no. Two of 'em look like they could be crew, a little chink and a kid. The other four are toners. One of 'em, a woman, is drunk as a skunk. They say they're your charter. Over."  
  
Jenna thought fast. Something must have gone very wrong for the whole group to arrive without giving her any warning.  
  
"Damn, they're early. Please give them directions to my hanger and transfer me to the tower. Over."  
  
Within seconds, another voice came over the speaker.  
  
"Tower Control. What you need Cotton Candy? Over."  
  
"My charter is here early. Please get me clearance from Central for lift off as soon as possible. They already have my paper work; destination Derius 6, Pango City. I apologize for the rush but I'm sure you understand how particular private charters can be. Let me know as soon as I have the OK. Over."  
  
"No problem, Cotton Candy. Gate said you had toners. You got my sympathy. Over."  
  
"Sympathy appreciated, Tower. Cotton Candy over and out."  
  
"Tower out."  
  
Jenna keyed the remote signals that would close the back hanger door, open the front one and raise the hanger lights to full power. Then she leaned back into the soft padding of the command station. She could have answered the com from either one of the front stations but the command station, in the center of the bridge, was closest to the hatch. It felt good sitting there. She had known that it would. That is why she had avoided it, using only the lead pilot's station. It felt good but it wasn't hers. She leaned her head down and rubbed her temples. Then she felt strong hands massaging her shoulders and neck.  
  
"You look good sitting here, sweet thing."  
  
His hands felt delicious.  
  
"Thank you, but it isn't mine."  
  
She should be getting up. Preparing to welcome the others. But she couldn't find the will to move away from those hands. Or was it the command station she didn't want to leave? Or the group she didn't want to welcome?  
  
"Whose's is it?"  
  
"Maximus'. He's the leader of our group."  
  
"He pilots?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then he's the leader on the ground. Here, on the bridge of this ship, on the bridge of any ship, he's cargo."  
  
Jenna had read Space Law. Riddle was right, to a point. Captains were required to be pilots and even the CEO of Galactic asked the Captain's permission before setting foot on the bridge of one of the company's ships. But, only between orbits was the Captain of a ship the unquestioned authority. Once in orbit, that CEO could fire the Captain and appoint another pilot to that rank.  
  
However, law had very little to do with this situation; at least any law other than what she set for herself. No one was in any position to be running to the police or the courts and no one else could pilot but Riddle and her. If ever there was a situation where might ruled, this was it. Jeeter would back her and obviously, since he had brought up the subject, so would Riddle; for now and for his own reasons. She felt the heat of Riddle's breath on her neck.  
  
"Say the word, Captain, and it'll be exactly like Jeeter called it."  
  
What was the old saying? 'Devil, get thee behind me.' Well that was exactly where he was; behind her, whispering in her ear. She wished that she could read his mind or at least look into his eyes. But with Riddle that didn't work. Glowing orbs in the dark didn't reveal the subtle secrets that normal eyes did.  
  
Still, Riddle's motives weren't what counted and this wasn't Jeeter's call. It was hers. But what should that be? She let it all rise to the surface; all the desires, needs, hates, fears, loves, dreams; let all of it mix and clash, fight and combine until her answer came. It came surprisingly quickly. She wanted the Captain's chair. She had earned it.  
  
And she wanted more than that. She wanted her ships. All the others had meticulously designed their individual images of the perfect world. Those images were now reality and stored safely in the many pods of the 'Hole in the Wall'. Only two of those pods were hers; an apartment pod and her personal library. She had thrown all her time and energy into making their dreams real because she had none of her own. Her dreams were between the covers of her books, within the cases of her spools; dreams that she thought could never be reality.  
  
Now, she realized that they could; that all the time she had been concentrating on the needs of the others, she had been building her own world as well. The ships were her world. The limitless reaches of space, with all their myriad possibilities, were her world. No matter what the registry papers said, the ships belonged to her and she wanted them.  
  
Her manifest destiny became clear to her. Her determination to have it solidified within her as dense as the titanium-steel of her ships. But with it came a patient peace. She would have her ships but she wouldn't resort to piracy just yet. She would wait until she had safely delivered the rest of the group to their sanctuary. Then, if the group didn't see it her way, she would take them.  
  
"Since you seem to know Space Law, this will be by the book, First Officer. You and the Second Officer, do not use names, will board the passengers and see that they are secured properly. There are two bunks per compartment. If Mr. Sen, S E N - he is oriental, wishes to speak to me, he is welcome on the bridge. But no one else."  
  
"Aye, Aye, Captain." A gentle whisper and then Riddle moved away from her.  
  
There was a hint of some emotion in that whisper that Jenna couldn't identify. It touched something in her. She didn't know how she knew it and she didn't know why he had done it but she knew that Riddle had just put her to some kind of test. She wished she knew how he had graded her answer. Now how ironic was that. She was sitting here planning her betrayal of the group and she was concerned about Riddle's good opinion.  
  
She turned just in time to see him going out of the hatch.  
  
"Riddle!"  
  
He appeared in the hatch again.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
What had she intended to do? Ask him straight out what he was planning?  
  
"Tell Jeeter that he sits bridge with us. ... and Riddle ... play 'nice' with the cargo, ... please."  
  
"Aye, Aye, sweet thing."  
  
The shitty grin was back. Whatever had been in that whisper was withdrawn deep inside him once again.  
  
She remained in the command chair and began her systems checks in anticipation of receiving clearance. All three of the stations were set up for every function necessary; pilot, navigator, com operator, weapons officer. The only difference in the command station was that it could over-ride, partially lock out or completely lock out the other two. Jenna locked out all functions for the secondary forward station. Until she knew just how well Jeeter knew his way around a bridge, it was safer that way.  
************************************************  
Riddick walked aft along the gangway toward the hold. What in the fuck had he just done? No, he knew the answer to that. Why in the fuck he had done it was the problem. Ok, so the woman didn't know what she was becoming or where she belonged and he did; well, at least he knew a big piece of it. He had started to see it the minute she began that tour. Every gesture, every word, every expression on her face as she described this ship and the one waiting in orbit had screamed it. With every brush of her fingers against any part of the ship, she had radiated the same feeling touching his shiv gave him.  
  
So he knew. What was that? Knowing things about people was what you had better be good at if you were going to survive. Knowing things that you could use to your advantage when the time came for them to be useful. But what he had just done sure wasn't that. Provoking a coup d'etat, a civil war, whatever, when he didn't know all the players nor the rules of the game they were playing was just about the stupidest move he had ever made. So why had he done it?  
  
He had done it because she belonged there. When he had walked onto that bridge and saw her sitting in the command slot, she had belonged there. Dressed like an up-town hooker, she belonged there more than any tight-ass uniform mannequin he had ever seen.  
  
He had done it because when she said that it didn't belong to her; said it in that gentle, sad, questioning voice; something had twisted inside him that hurt worse than any bullet or shiv ever had. And he had seen another woman's face; Carolyn's face; gentle, sad, questioning face. He had done it because people could be dead even while they were still breathing and this time it wasn't happening. Pay back was owed. Now that she knew that she wanted them, no one was going to take Jenna's ships away from her.  
  
Riddick stomped into the hold and over to Jeeter.  
  
"Jenna's the Captain. I'm First Officer. You're Second Officer. Use First and Second, no names. Orders are we get the ground-hogs strapped down for lift, two to a compartment. We do it by the book and we play 'nice'. Nobody except an oriental named Sen gets anywhere near Jenna. Then we ride the bridge with her. Clear?"  
  
`"Crystal, First."  
*************************************************************  
Shit, what had it been? Almost three years? And he had never seen Barrol act like a damn thing was important to him 'cept the cash for a contract. Always just cold, calm and scary. Well, now he was calm and scary, all right, but he sure wasn't cold. Something had bitten him where he lived. Something that had to do with Lady. Something that was making him clinch and unclinch his hand like he wanted to be holding that nasty-assed shiv ah his.  
  
Jeeter didn't even wanna try and guess what had pissed Barrol off but one thing he did know: Barrol wasn't pissed at Lady; he was pissed for her. For the first time since Barrol had collared him in that alley, he had called Lady by a real name 'steada that smart-mouthed 'sweet thing'. Lady wasn't just a thing to Barrol anymore; she had a name. He called her 'Jenna'. Pretty. Wasn't the one she gave G so maybe it was the one she was gonna keep.   
  
Well, whatever was coming down, Jeeter knew which side he was on. He wanted Barrol to know it, too. He leaned back against the skimmer, took his sticker outa his boot and pretended to clean his nails. He kept his voice sounding easy.  
  
"Hey First? If somebody's fucking with Lady, can I kill him a little 'fore you have your fun?"  
  
Barrol turned and stared at him. Sweet Mother, shades and all that man could stare harder than any other man Jeeter had ever known. Then Barrol smiled. It had a nasty twist to it but it was a smile. Ok, maybe he was beginning to warm up a little.  
  
"Seems that there may be some question about Jenna being Captain."  
  
"Like hell there is!"  
  
"Exactly. But she wants to play it legal so that's what we do. For now. So put the sticker away."  
  
"Sure thing. Guess I'll pop the hatches on those compartments and section out the tie-downs so we can get 'em down and secure before they got time to think about making trouble. That all right with you, First?"  
  
"Second, you fall in real easy with ship lingo and prep for someone who just crewed for Tio a few times."  
  
Ahh fuck. When he'd found out that Barrol could pilot hyper he shoulda figured he'd been military. Shoulda figured that, shoulda remembered it, shoulda been more careful. Kept his big mouth shut and waited to be told. But Barrol was still acting friendly. Well, friendly for Barrol.  
  
"So?"  
  
"Soooo, you don't happen to know how you react to hyper, do you?"  
  
His first thought was to lie to Barrol. You didn't get tested for hyper 'less you wanted to be a commercial hyper pilot, like they'd ever let a slum rat like him touch one ah their fancy ships, or was in the Forces. And for him the lie had the same end as the truth. But, hell, Barrol was treating him straight so far. Respected him enough to search him for weapons; something that stupid G had never thoughta doing. And it was a sure bet that Barrol wasn't into turning anyone for bounty.   
  
"Give's me the screaming meemies."  
  
"Too bad. But any more ship's knowledge you have, use it. Just tell me what you're doing first. Now, do those hatches and tie-downs. When they show, I'll keep them here until you're ready."  
  
Jeeter headed for the gangway. Damn, if he'da had a Top like Barrol, might not ah gone AWOL and raider. Yeah, but you didn't know how to do the things Barrol could do being a Top. You didn't know 'em being any kinda Regular Forces. Special Opps, maybe; Cappers for sure. Shit, he'd crossed paths with some ah those bastards going through the line and coming back. They were scary mother fuckers.  
  
Yeah! And so was Barrol! But how did a capper end up with a prison shine? They did shit that'd make an honest con turn green and puke and got paid for doing it. Hell, Jeeter sure wasn't going to ask him. What Jeeter was gonna do was pray to the Holy Mother to give Lady whatever it took to keep him on their side or gave Jeeter whatever it took to kill him if it came to it. Nah, he'd take that second one up with St. Jude. 


	8. Chapter 8 Hail Hail the Gang's All Here

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 8 - HAIL, HAIL, THE GANG'S ALL HERE  
Riddick watched Jeeter disappear into the gangway and then began securing the skimmer with cables. Magnetic lock-downs were supposed to be fail-safe but 'supposed to be' and 'were' often weren't the same thing. While he worked, he thought about the way Jeeter had been behaving since taking Jenna's contract. This wasn't the frightened little toadie that slunk around Freddie G's trying to melt into the wallpaper. Riddick had always assumed that Jeeter was local dregs, never been off planet. Now it seemed that he might have been born and bred Derius 4 but he had been off planet and had probably come home to hide. Hide from what? That was the question. Was he just an AWOL or was there more.  
  
Riddick's speculation was cut short by the sound of a vehicle reving to climb the ramp into the Butch Cassidy's hold. He watched as a huge ground bus pulled in and parked beside the skimmer. The top was covered with luggage and it looked like the back 3/4 of the bus was filled with cartons of various sizes. He heard the lock-downs engage and then two men hurried out of the bus door and began cabling it. Well, at least they were trying to do it right. He called out to the man closest to him; a tall, fairly well built blond that looked to be about thirty; pretty boy type.  
  
"You need to net that before you cable it. Nets are in the lockers on the port side."  
  
The man had jumped at the sound of Riddick's voice, spun toward him and was now looking him up and down. Riddick could feel himself being labeled bottom of the ladder socially and mentally. Physically, he made the man nervous. Good.  
  
"Who are you?!"  
  
("to tell me anything?") The man didn't say it but Riddick heard it just the same.  
  
"I'm the First Officer of this ship." ("and you will do what I say when I say or I'll put you out an airlock") But Jenna said 'nice'. "During high-G maneuvers, soft cargo takes precedence. The gravity grids would be disabled here to feed power to the ones in the passenger section and bridge. Now, net it. Port is that way."  
  
Riddick flicked a finger in the correct direction. The blond bristled at Riddick's tone of command but recognized his greater knowledge in the matter at hand. He looked toward the top of the bus and called out.  
  
"Benny, we have to put nets on before the cables. Get down here and help me get some."  
  
The blond's voice was a high baritone, a high tenor voice answered him.  
  
"Nice time to think of it, Cameron."  
  
The blond, Cameron, stomped off in a huff and a thin, wiry man dropped from the top of the bus, landing right in front of Riddick. Man? Boy? Riddick couldn't decide. Medium height - a bit taller than Jeeter, mop of unruly dark brown hair, impish grin and brown eyes sparkling with excitement; he could have been anywhere between mid-teens to mid-twenties.  
  
"Trickus, you look even x-er that you sound. Heard every word to old Jeffie boy. Mr. I-designed-the-drives-I-designed-the-ships-I'm-going-to-tell-everyone-what-to-do-because-I'm-the-big-bad-spaceman and you totally flatline him. So capital X-er. Hope you don't mind me fuseing him on out. Don't get the chance very often. I'm Benjamin Good. Ben or Jammin. Jeffie's going to pay for Benny as soon as I get the right frequency."  
  
When he had pronounced his name been-jammin-good, Riddick labeled him 'kid', 'cute kid'. Ben had that same fearless, totally curious, irreverent attitude that Jack had the first time he had seen her. Then the comment about Jeff Cameron paying and the fact that Riddick also recognized the voice made him change that to 'probably dangerous young man'. Ben was the March Hare; the one who wanted to use a left earring on somebody and the one who would have to be trusted with the information in that second set of forms.  
  
"I'm First, for now."  
  
"I'm on your wave. Name's the zero point. Got to be x-er. Takes cycles of brain time. I can be fixer anywhere so no modulation necessary. Well, better keep Jeffie from total melt down."  
  
He was bouncing energetically toward the port lockers before Riddick had totally processed that last. He had sounded fairly normal over the speakers in the skimmer but now he was talking and moving with nervous intensity that set Riddick's teeth on edge.  
  
A soft cultured voice addressed Riddick from the door of the bus.  
  
"You must forgive Benjamin, First. Mr. Cameron has been most obnoxious to him this evening. Mr. Cameron prefers the weaker for his targets. He is not wise enough to understand how truly dangerous that can be. Is it possible for Benjamin to see Jenna? She has a way of calming him much quicker than I can."  
  
The speaker had to be Mr. Maximus Sen; a tiny, gentle faced, smiling Buddha with a sharp intelligence behind his sleepy eyes; and from the name, just as twisted a sense of humor as Ben. He was a tenor but his tone was so calm and even that his voice sounded lower than it was. Like Ben, his age was a question; anywhere from fifties to infinity. He wasn't talking like someone who intended to sit in the command slot but some people commanded very softly. Riddick kept his tone easy but his words very to the point.  
  
"The Captain has ordered that you be allowed the courtesy of a visit to the bridge but no one else. You'll be riding two to a compartment. I can put you and Ben together and see that Jeffie is at the other end of the gangway."  
  
Riddick saw a glint of approval in Mr. Sen's eyes at his use of Ben's name preference and also his insulting nick-name for Jeff Cameron.  
  
"You are a very perceptive man, First. That arrangement will be fine. I see no need for my disturbing the Captain's preparations for take off, if you will be so kind as to inform her that the kettle will boil at Oh-Seven-Hundred and it seems prudent to be as far from the stove as possible by that time. She may summon me at her convenience for a fuller report. Also, she and you need not be bothered with any thoughts of the rest of us when we arrive in orbit. I will be happy to take all responsibility for seeing that everyone gets settled in and prepared for hyper, play steward as it were."  
  
This reminded Riddick of Jeeter.  
  
"I'll need sedative and recovery hypos for our Second Officer. He'll stay with us and I can handle the injections myself."  
  
"You have medical training. How propitious. Syrus, Syrus Black, is serving as our doctor. He had anticipated that he would be required to use a timed intravenous line. Not the safest of procedures. Would you be so kind as to see to his recovery injection as well?"  
  
"No problem. Have him load the hypo and com the bridge when he decides where he will be when he taps out."  
  
"I intend to 'tap out' in the infirmary."  
  
The deep sepulcher voice would have been perfect for a graveyard or dungeon scene in a horror vid. Riddick turned. For a brief second he was staring at Freddie G. His shiv was out before the differences gave his mind enough control over his hand to keep Syrus Black from dying.  
  
Physically, he could have been G's identical twin; tallish, thin, long black hair and sharp faced. But, where G was an oily, conniving, weak spined cur, this man was a well tailored gothic wolf. He was looking at Riddick's shiv with nothing more than mild interest.  
  
"Am I to assume that you do surgery as well as injections?"  
  
Riddick sheathed the shiv. Jenna had some explaining to do about dropping something like this on him without any warning. Then again, it was probably his own fault for playing fast and loose with her mind all evening.  
  
"Yeah, sort of. I'm lousy on closing."  
  
Syrus smiled at this dark humor. Riddick decided he had been wrong. G hadn't resembled the Devil very well at all. Syrus Black did it much better. Removing his jacket and pulling up the sleeve of his shirt to above his elbow, Syrus held his arm out.  
  
"Find the vein."  
  
Riddick walked over to him, took his arm and quickly brought the vein in the inside of his elbow popping to the surface. He released the arm and stepped back.  
  
"Satisfied?"  
  
"Completely. If you will agree to do the others' recovery injections as well, I will be able to begin the procedure on your and Jen.. the Captain's eyes as soon as you're finished."  
  
Jenna was having something done to her eyes? But he didn't have time to think about that. He heard Jeeter's approaching footsteps and then his startled gasp. He had just enough time to sweep Syrus out of the way before Jeeter's sticker embedded itself in the side of the bus where Syrus' throat had been. He spun and put himself between Jeeter and Syrus, who had lost his balance and was in a sprawled sitting position on the deck.  
  
"Jeeter! It ain't him!"  
  
Riddick thought he was going to have to get physical with the little man until the sound of Syrus' voice brought him to his senses. It was the one thing about Syrus that was totally not Freddie G.  
  
"My God!! What is wrong with you people?! Just who is this 'him' that I'm not?! And why does everyone want to kill him?!"  
  
The man sounded exasperated, not frightened. Riddick couldn't smell fear on him either. It was Jeeter that answered his questions.  
  
"His name was Freddie G. He was a slimy fuck that was gonna turn all ah us for bounty and we did kill him 'bout four hours ago."  
  
Syrus pondered this for a few seconds.  
  
"Well, that does make the whole thing understandable. May I get up now? Or are there more of you?"  
  
Riddick offered him a hand, his left, and discovered that Syrus had a good firm grip. Once he was on his feet, Syrus straightened, dusted his clothing and then took a moment to study Jeeter.  
  
"I presume that you are the Second Officer. How much do you weigh? about fifty-five kilos?"  
  
Jeeter still looked at Syrus with suspicion.  
  
"Fifty-eight. Why?"  
  
"Medication for hyper."  
  
Everything that had been going on had been necessary business; well, maybe not the two near homicides; but the clock was running and getting everyone stored away for lift needed to be taken care of. Riddick turned to Mr. Sen.  
  
"We need to get your people secured. Where are the other two?"  
  
Sen looked at Syrus.  
  
"Sorry Max, but I had to sedate 'Sasha' ,again, and give David something for his ulcer. She's totally limp, thank God, and he's still doubled over in pain. If one of these obviously physical gentlemen would assist me, I think we can get them out."  
  
Riddick was about to enter the bus with Syrus when a totally insane screeching tore through the hold. It was coming from the port side. Riddick threw a signal to Jeeter to help Syrus and took off at top speed toward the screeching. He was surprised to find that Mr. Sen was right beside him and keeping up.  
  
The screeching was coming from Ben. He was trying his best to tear Jeff Cameron's throat out with his bare hands. The much bigger man was doing his best to fight Ben off but was losing the battle. Riddick took Ben from behind, wrapping his arms around him and holding his arms to his side like a muscle and bone straightjacket.  
  
Cameron tried to take advantage of Ben's confinement to slug him. Big mistake. Shifting his control of Ben to one arm, Riddick backhanded the blond with a closed fist. Cameron landed flat on his back but was still conscious. Riddick, Ben still clutched to him, stepped over and kicked Cameron in the ribs as hard as he could without breaking any bones.  
  
"Get your fucking ass forward and get strapped down before I finish what the kid started."  
  
Cameron scrabbled away on his hands and knees for a good distance before he took the time to get to his feet.  
  
"The little psycho needs to be locked up."  
  
Riddick literally roared at him.  
  
"That's the same thing they say about me. Now, move!"  
  
Cameron paled where he wasn't starting to bruise and he moved, half running half staggering toward the group now headed from the bus toward the gangway. Syrus was helping another man to walk and Jeeter had a petite, blond woman tossed over one shoulder. Riddick had to smile. Jeeter had one hand planted firmly on her ass and a shitty grin on his face.  
  
Riddick turned his head to find Ben smiling up at him.  
  
"You all right, kid?"  
  
"Yeah, totally, First. Can I help you with the bus?"  
  
Riddick let him go.  
  
"Sure."  
  
Mr. Sen spoke then.  
  
"What started this, Benjamin?"  
  
Ben pointed at the small bundle of netting on the deck.  
  
"I remember Cameron pulling this bundle out and telling him we needed the bigger one." He indicated a large bundle still in the locker. "Then I don't remember any more."  
  
"Do you have a headache?"  
  
Ben thought about this then his smile got wider.  
  
"I did but it went away while First was holding me. X-er! Only Jen has been able to do that before."  
  
Mr. Sen smiled at Riddick.  
  
"Yes, indeed, a most propitious addition to our endeavor. I will leave Benjamin in your capable hands, First."  
  
Riddick was caught off guard when Mr. Sen gave him one of those hands-folded-over-the-chest, head-and-shoulder bows before turning and walking calmly toward the gangway.  
  
"Oh, he really likes you, First. Haven't seen one of his Buddha bows in ages. What do we do now?"  
  
Buddha bow, huh? Cute.  
  
"We stow that smaller net and get the one you picked over the bus. You were right. So much for Cameron's engineering genius."  
  
As they dragged the heavy netting across the hold, Ben gave Riddick a very important piece of information.  
  
"He is a genius but in design, theory, tolerances, blueprints, all that stuff. He just isn't good at application. If he had the measurements of the bus and the nets, he would have got it right before a computer could. Might never have gotten it over the bus right, though. Mr. Sen says he has to learn to do more hands on and it's got him fused. Of course, we're all geniuses, kind of off the scale you know, but just in our own fields. Not Sasha, of course. She's just David's wife. The idiot married her instead of Jen."  
  
After that they worked mostly in silence, only saying what had to be said to get the job done, but Riddick could tell that Ben had something on his mind. So did he. What was that totally confused look that Jenna had given him in the booth all about if she had been close to marrying this David character? He finally came to the conclusion that some whimp that would let a woman give him an ulcer didn't have what it took to light a real fire in a woman as strong as Jenna. But Riddick really didn't like the idea that he might have tried.  
  
Just as they finished cabling the bus, Ben raised the issue that was bothering him.  
  
"First, ... I remember more than I told Mr. Sen. Cameron was ragging on Jen. Saying she wasn't going to be Captain of the big ship; that he was. He said that she was nothing but a pilot and, now that we had another, he was going to put her in her place. He called her a ..... He started calling her names. That's when I got so mad I can't remember. You won't let him do that, will you? You won't pilot for him, will you?"  
  
"No."  
  
They walked toward the gangway. About halfway there Ben spoke again.  
  
"First, .. what you did to Cameron .. could you teach me to do some things like that? I mean .... maybe if I could do something .... well maybe I could stop people like Cameron before I got so mad ... before I went where I can't remember. I asked Jen about it once but she said she didn't know if it would work. But Jen couldn't ever hurt anyone. Since you can and you can help me like she does, I thought that you might know if it would work."  
  
Riddick's mind flew back in time a few hours; a pencil, a paper weight and an earring. But that was Jenna's choice; how much, if any, of it that she wanted the others to know.  
  
"I'll talk to Jenna. Now, you need to get ready for lift. You're bunking with Mr. Sen. Ok?"  
  
"X-er."  
  
The lift warning sounded throughout the ship. 


	9. Chapter 9 Into The Hole In The Wall

If you are reading, please review. I value readers' opinions, signed and unsigned. And guys ..... be tough. If I've dropped the ball or made absolutely no sense about something, let me know. Thanks bunches, Abraxis  
THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 9 - INTO THE HOLE IN THE WALL  
Some time had passed since the bus had entered the hold. Jenna had heard traffic in the gangway but neither Jeeter nor Riddle had returned to the bridge when the com beeped and then the speakers crackled to life.  
  
"Tower to Cotton Candy. Over."  
  
"Cotton Candy here. Over."  
  
"You have your clearance. Countdown at ten, 1 0, minutes. Can you take it or do you need a later slot? Things are crowded up there. Over."  
  
Jenna trusted the Butch Cassidy to lift an egg laying loose on the deck without breaking it. Whether everyone was completely secured or not, she wasn't passing on a quick slot and such a perfect set up. Heavy traffic would help cover the maneuver that they need to make.  
  
"Count down in ten will be fine. Take the Gate with you and have breakfast at Mary's on my tab; all the trimmings. Ready to set mark. Over."  
  
There was more than enough left in her deposit at Mary's to cover that and the remainder would make a nice surprise tip for Mary's crew.  
  
"Set mark at 9 point 3 0 ............. now. Check in with me when you get back. I've got six more pod ferries for you if you want them. Over."  
  
"Will do. Over."  
  
"Open space and hot jets, Cotton Candy. Over."  
  
"Going home, Tower. Cotton Candy, over and out."  
  
Jenna had often exchanged those words with the man in the tower; once a pilot himself but now grounded by his age. But they had been nothing but the expected responses that she had learned in her research to make her masquerade believable. Now, it wasn't a masquerade any longer. The true poignant meaning of it twisted her heart and she had to stifle an urge to cry.  
  
They had never seen each other's faces, knew each other only as 'Tower' and 'Cotton Candy'. But, during the months that she had spent transporting pods to the Hole, he had taken her under his wing; taught her the ins and outs of the business she was supposed to be trying to build, making himself her unofficial broker. She had put away a tidy sum from the transfer contracts he had arranged to fill the gaps in transfers to the Hole. True, he had done well in commissions on the deals but she had also added generous bonuses because he had taught her a lot more than the business. He had corrected her lingo, helped her refine her piloting skills and regaled her with tales of his life that had taught her the things that the books never could. She was going to miss 'Tower' very much.   
  
She had been busy while she talked to him. She had locked off all controls in the second forward slot, sounded the lift-off warning, closed and sealed the hold doors and signaled the hanger control computer to prepare for lift. The hanger was already folding back on itself, exposing the BC to the soft night. She activated the BC's gravity grids to keep the deck where it belonged regardless of the attitude of the ship. The hanger gantry began rotating, lifting the nose of the BC to point to the stars.  
  
She activated the special vid capabilities that she had installed after her first off planet flight. The nose of the Butch Cassidy seemed to disappear, even the aft wall and the deck. Only the stations and their controls remained. Jenna watched as reality rotated around her. It was a heady sensation as the planet became a huge mass at her back and she sat upon a throne suspended in air; the night sky displayed straight in front of her instead of above.  
  
She heard a strangled gasp and turned to find Jeeter and Riddle standing in the hatch. They seemed to be standing in the end of a tube with nothing but a void to receive their next step. Jeeter looked frightened. Riddle, who could tell. With his shined eyes, the effect might be completely lost. She quickly cut all but the forward vid returning the walls and deck of the bridge to their normal appearance.  
  
"Eight minutes to lift."  
  
The mechanical voice brought them all back to the reality at hand. Riddick stepped onto the bridge.  
  
"Mr. Sen sends the Captain his compliments and a message. 'The kettle will boil at Oh-Seven-Hundred and it seems prudent to be as far from the stove as possible by that time.' He also said that he will play steward and keep the others off of our backs. Which station is mine?"  
  
Jenna waved him to the lead forward station and allowed him some time to settle in.  
  
"The hyper controls are locked out. All your Keller controls are standard. The flight path is laid in on your display. You have the stick. ..... and Riddle, .. do it easy. Jeff and David have fiddled with the drives and even in Keller she has the best legs in town."  
  
  
Riddle, already in his slot, turned. The movement of his head indicated a slow tour of her own legs. Then he grinned. She couldn't keep from blushing just a little. But something had changed.  
  
She had changed. She had stepped across some basic internal dividing line when she had stepped into his arms in the gangway; had accepted this new aspect of herself that he had uncovered. She wanted the experiences he was offering; wanted to play the game. She tried to sound command tough.  
  
"Keep it on business, Mister."  
  
He turned away but she could hear that he was still grinning.  
  
"Aye, Aye, Captain."  
  
"Five minutes to lift."  
  
She turned to check on Jeeter. He was just settling into the second front slot. His face was still pale and Jenna concluded that he could have a very heavy problem with vertigo.  
  
"Are you doing all right, Jeeter?"  
  
He smiled wanly.  
  
"Oh, yeah. But please, Lady, don't do that again without letting me get my eyes shut first."  
  
Jenna nodded to reassure Jeeter and then turned back to Riddle.  
  
"Any questions about the course, Barrol?"  
  
"Well, I'll bet that we go invisible when we make this swing around the third moon and head back for the high orbits. Does anything else happen?"  
  
"Four minutes to lift."  
  
Jenna was impressed with Riddle's quick understanding of the purpose of the elliptical detour of their flight path.  
  
"When I engage the anti-detection defenses, I'll kill the ship id broadcast and launch a drone broadcasting it. It will continue on the course logged with Central Control. When it reaches Derius 6, instead of making orbit, it will continue on out-system. When you clear the moon, switch on the homing locater. It's already set for the id that the Hole is broadcasting. Just remember that we won't exist and dodging traffic is all up to us. If you start having problems with it, pass the stick."  
  
"Three minutes to lift."  
  
She heard Riddle chuckle. She was tempted to take back the stick right then and there. Instead she set her console for instant over-ride. All she would have to do was touch her controls and Riddle's station would go dead. She had to see his capabilities but she wasn't going to risk losing her ship, not to mention all the lives on board, just because he was too macho stubborn to admit it if he got into trouble.  
  
She watched her board as Riddle adjusted the ships gyros, disengaged the gantry and began checking the drive status.  
  
"Two minutes to lift."  
  
The graceful play of his large hands and long flexible fingers across the controls was beautiful to watch. The thought that he might touch a woman's body with the same expertise that he caressed those controls turned her skin hot. She caught herself running her tongue over her lips in anticipation.  
  
"One minute to lift."  
  
He had the board totally green as quickly as she could have done it. Now, she watch him relax his body into the padding of the station. Only those erotic hands poised over the lift controls testifying to his concentration. The ten second count began. The count hit zero. He activated his controls at the same instant as the lift computer, over-riding it and taking the ship out on manual.  
  
The books said that there was no physical effect at lift-off; that the artificial gravity nullified the effect of planetary gravity and acceleration; that the drive produced nothing that effected the human senses. For Jenna, the books lied.  
  
As always, she could feel the beast unleashed as the drive engaged. She could feel herself being torn free from the grasp of the planet, free of the weight of its atmosphere. She could feel the approach of the limitless energy of the void; subtle energy that the soup of atmosphere cut off, destroyed. As the last of the atmosphere fell away from the Butch Cassidy and the full wonder of it touched her, she wished she could see Riddle's face; see if he could feel it.  
  
As if he had read her thought, for a brief instant his face was turned toward her. Totally unreadable, then an almost feral smile, then turned away again. He laughed softly. She couldn't read that either. Forcing her attention back to her console, she smothered any thoughts that weren't directly concerned with the progress of the ship.  
  
The flight went perfectly. Even though the traffic in the high orbits was a tangle of large and small transports and ship's skiffs darting between the huge freighters, Riddle threaded the gauntlet with ease. Jenna never had the least urge to reach for her controls. But, after laying the Butch Cassidy along side the Hole at a matched attitude and velocity, Riddick gave her the stick.  
  
"Since I don't know where to lock on, you want to park it, Captain?"  
  
Jenna laughed and hit a switch on her console. A section of the belly of the Hole opened and what had looked like four separate pods formed a large hold.  
  
"No lock-on, hanger bay. Take her in."  
  
Riddle matched with the bay and eased the BC up, relative direction, into it. He cut the drive and the 'Hole in the Wall's' automatics took over. The bay door closed and the gravity units of the bay gently settled the BC to the deck. When the gage read normal atmosphere in the bay, Jenna opened the BC's hold doors and locked down the BC's bridge controls.  
  
As she lifted her eyes from the controls, Jenna found that both Jeeter and Riddle had rotated their chairs and were watching her, waiting patiently for her orders. She had to close her eyes for a moment as a storm of emotion washed over her. No one ever before had looked to her in that manner. Now, these two strong, capable, dangerous men were. Things were happening too fast. She needed some down time but she couldn't take it just yet. She stood.  
  
"Welcome home, gentlemen. Barrol, you're with me to the bridge. Jeeter, help Mr. Sen get the rest unstrapped then join us. Fore hatch is bridge, starboard hatch leads to the rest of the ship."  
  
She turned and headed for the gangway but Riddle's voice stopped her.  
  
"Captain. Permission for Ben to join the bridge crew."  
  
She turned to look at him and he continued the thought.  
  
"Otherwise, he's going to kill Jeffie. No loss as far as pretty boy is concerned but probably not so good for the kid."  
  
Before she could explore this new layer in Riddle, Jeeter chimed in.  
  
"If pretty boy is the one with half his face turning purple, he needs to go for a walk without a pressure suit." Then he looked pointedly at Riddle. "The kid's fists didn't look that big to me."  
  
Jenna was so curious she could hardly stand it but Riddle's closed expression made it very clear that he wasn't going to comment. She labeled the whole thing 'further investigation required'.  
  
"Permission granted. Jeeter bring Ben with you."  
  
Riddle added to that.  
  
"Tell Syrus that I need hyper meds for him, too."  
  
When they hit the bridge of the Hole, Jenna left Riddle on his own to study the stations set-up, took the command slot and opened the com. Central Control had a much newer com system than the small port where she had hangered the BC. She keyed the call signal for Central and waited for the two way connection to be opened. It took a few minutes.  
  
"Central to heavy freighter Charis. What do you require?"  
  
"I need out-orbit direct plot for Segundus sector, a-sap."  
  
"You aren't going to get it Charis. We're coded on that side of the system for seventy-two hours; problems with the miners on Seven. Best I can do is give you a slot in the highest orbit and put you on the list unless you have the juice to waste on an elliptical plot."  
  
Jenna didn't want to make their exit conspicuous by taking the elliptical plot but remaining in orbit around Derius 4 that long after the 'kettle boiled' was unacceptable. She cursed herself for using the planned exit direction without checking for problems. It had nothing to do with where they were actually going but she couldn't change it now.  
  
"I have no choice, Central. Seventy-two hours will kill me on every delivery deadline I've got. Switching on warning beacons, now. Feed me the plot."  
  
Jenna switched to the nav computer display and watched as the plot was traced onto it. Not bad. They would actually be out of Central's sphere sooner than they would have with a direct.  
  
"Plot received and locked, Central. Out orbit in forty-five minutes; 4 5 point 0 0 check mark ............. now."  
  
"Check mark good, Charis. Open Space. Central out."  
  
As Jenna closed the com and engaged the auto pilot, she couldn't stop a huge yawn from forcing her mouth open and escaping. Though Riddick was already seated at the lead pilot station, he must have heard her yawn.  
  
"You need some sleep. We've got six hours before we'll be far enough out to hyper without them noticing. I'll babysit the auto and you sack out. I'll wake you in time to have breakfast before we jump."  
  
Jenna's confidence in Riddle's abilities grew even further at his almost instant read of the plot. She had only noted that the route was shorter to out system but had not calculated the exact time involved. This lapse forced her to admit that her energy was beginning to sag now that everything had been done that could be done for the moment. But she couldn't give up to it just yet.  
  
"I want something to eat and I want to be here when we leave orbit. After that I'll sack for three then you wake me and take your three."  
  
"Not necessary. You get the full six. I sleep days. This is lunch time for me. Soooo, where do we get that food you mentioned?"  
  
Jenna couldn't help but notice that Riddle had avoided mentioning her need to be in the slot when they left orbit. That made her certain that he suspected the reason for it; that she had never conned the 'Hole in the Wall'. It had been delivered to this orbit and she had done nothing but check to see that the auto was keeping it where it belonged. It had done such an excellent job that she had never had to make even the smallest adjustment. Just as Riddle had taken the BC off planet on manual, she intended to con the Hole out orbit.  
  
"Port side hatch. It's not a full galley just a dial-it-up."  
  
Jenna stood up intending to head for the galley but had taken only one step when Jeeter and Ben barreled through the port-aft hatch from the hanger bay.  
  
"Lady, we need uniforms."  
  
"He's on frequency, Jen. Uniforms are zero point."  
  
"NO!" This explosive comment issued from Riddle.  
  
"YES!" Double explosions from Jeeter and Ben.  
  
"GENTLEMEN! We will discuss this calmly.  
  
She saw Ben's eyes focus on her, saw the confusion and shock suffuse his face.  
  
"Jenna?"  
  
Then came the pain, the accusing eyes of the betrayed, the disgust and condemnation. Jenna reach her hand out to him. He jerked back, fear and hate on his face. Her stomach twisted. She took a step toward him but she couldn't see him anymore. She wondered what had happened to the lights. She felt the impacts as her hips and then the back of her head hit the deck. That hur...  
***********************************************************************  
Riddick watched as Ben's reaction cut into Jenna like a shiv. He saw her reach out and then turn ghostly white as the kid flinched away. The quivering in her legs, as she took a step forward, told him what was happening but not soon enough for him to get to her to catch her. Kneeling beside her, he put his fingers to the artery in her throat. Her pulse was strong but she was clammy cold. Sitting, he pulled her into his lap and held her against his chest, trying to give her his own warmth. He was trying to pull that skimpy skirt down to cover more of her legs when Jeeter laid his jacket over them. Jeeter looked scared.  
  
"She's just fainted. I need a hot towel or something to wash her face. The starboard hatch should be a head."  
  
As Jeeter rose and hurried toward the hatch, Riddick found himself looking at Ben. If Jeeter was scared, the kid was terrified; terrified and in agonizing guilt. For all Riddick cared, after what he'd done, the little jerk could stay that way. But Jenna would care.   
  
"Ben. Ben! She needs something to warm her up." Ben began to focus on what he was saying. "Coffee, maybe, with lots of sugar and milk and something to eat like soup or stew. There's a galley behind you. Can you do that? Can you get her some coffee first and then something to eat?"  
  
"She likes a lot of sugar but no milk."  
  
He still looked shocky.  
  
"That's fine. Make it just the way she likes it. Now, go get it."  
  
Ben stumbled toward the galley just as Jeeter held a wet hand towel in front of Riddick's face. While Riddick warmed Jenna's face with the towel, Jeeter wrapped a blanket around her legs, leaving enough bundled at her waist for Riddick to pull it up around her shoulders as well.  
  
"There's kinda a mini bunk room and day room in there. Head's got a fresher and all the trimmings."  
  
Then Ben was kneeling on the other side of her holding a steaming mug.  
  
"First, ..... why is Jenna dressed like that?"  
  
Riddick wanted to know more about where the kid was coming from before he gave answers.  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"Like a ..... "  
  
"Like a whore?"  
  
Jeeter stiffened but didn't interfere with Riddick's play.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Now what would you know about whores?"  
  
Ben had been looking at Jenna, his expression worried but thoughtful. Now, his head snapped up and he faced Riddick with defiance and anger in his eyes.  
  
"I know quite a lot. My mother was one. She didn't dump me off on the government until I was nine years old."  
  
Ok, now Riddick knew what was going on.  
  
"Well, Ben, I don't know for sure if my mother was a whore or not. I got dumped in a trash bin before I was an hour old. We'll have to compare lives sometime and see who got the worse deal."  
  
Ben looked like someone had just opened up the gates to hell and invited him to take a tour. Riddick was pretty sure that they wouldn't be having any further conversations on the subject. He continued.  
  
"Jenna is dressed like a whore because she had to come to my world, had to walk in the sewer, to find a hyper jockey for you and the others. She's dressed like a whore because she had to look like she belonged there, because she couldn't take the risk that someone could trace her back to you and the others."  
  
Ben's expression had grown more and more ashamed with each word.  
  
"Oh God, First. I so sorry. I have to make her understand how sorry I am. Oh God, how do I do that?"  
  
Now Riddick could get to the important part, the part that might keep the kid from doing this shit to Jenna again.  
  
"You can listen very carefully to what I'm going to tell you. Listen to it and believe it. Jenna's dressed like she belongs in my world but she doesn't. We got that much straight?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"All right. Then hear this loud and clear. She doesn't belong in your world any more either. I don't know exactly what's going on here, but from what I've seen, she got sent outside to do things nobody else wanted to do while the rest of you stayed inside all safe and comfortable. You can't do that to someone and expect them not to change. But that's exactly what you and the others are doing. And she knew that you would. She told us to keep all of you away from her because she knew it. But she cared about you enough to risk it and look what that got her. She's changed but not enough. She still cares. That's why she doesn't belong in my world, yet. You keep on twisting her heart out because she's changed and it won't be long before she does."  
  
Riddick paused to let this idea sink in. Just as he was about to start in on the kid again, Jeeter took up the play.  
  
"Barrol's right. I heard everything the others were saying about her and that's not the Lady I know. She's not their little mouse, peacekeeping doormat anymore. She's stronger and got more guts than all'a them put together. She belongs in the command slot. She belongs between orbits. And that Sasha bitch, where's she get off thinking she's so special compared to Lady. Oh, she's a cute little trick, all right, but Lady's all woman and so fine." Riddick and Ben both turned hard looks on him. "Well, she is. And I'll tell the two'a you something. Those uniforms we need to get better show it. Best way we got to tell the resta them that things have changed. Not all bare skin, but .... well, bad; strong, bad and showing what she's got."  
  
Riddick felt Jenna stir and tightened his arms around her. Just as he suspected she would, she came conscious fighting. Once her eyes focused and she saw his face, she stopped struggling. Damn, she had a beautiful smile. Then her face turned worried, very worried.  
  
"Ben? Where's Ben?"  
  
Ben ducked his head but Riddick gave him points when he spoke up immediately.  
  
"I'm here, Jen. God, Jen, I'm so sorry. I was so stupid."  
  
Jenna did what Riddick expected her to do. She tried to take the blame.  
  
"No, Ben. It's not your fault. I knew better. I should have changed clothes."  
  
But Ben wouldn't let it happen. Riddick started to forgive him.  
  
"No you shouldn't have. If you made any mistake it was being too good to me, too thoughtful already. Damn, Jen, I'm not a nine year old kid anymore. I'm almost twenty-two and it's time I grew up. Long past time. Time I realized that ... well, that I wasn't ... That you're not ....... Here, drink your coffee and tell me what you want to eat?"  
  
Food became the focal point, giving everyone time to decompress emotionally. While Riddick helped Jenna to her feet, got her settled in her slot and started on her coffee, Ben and Jeeter checked out the galley and took orders. Jenna had called it a dial-it-up and it was automated but Riddick had seen a lot skimpier menus in hundred-credits-a-plate places with snippy head waiters and too many forks. It had serving size choices, too; everything from just-a-snack to a-Serrian-lizard-is-coming-to-dinner. Everyone went for full meals. On proportions, Ben was at the snack end of it, Jenna and Riddick hit various levels in the middle and Jeeter went for the Serrian special. Riddick wondered just here he was going to put it all. He was still working on it when the others were having after dinner coffee.  
  
The bridge of the Hole was larger than the BC's. The command slot, fully capable of handling all functions, was in the same center position with the other stations spread across the bridge in an arc between it and the forward vid. The difference was that there were four front slots and, while all functions could be activated in every station on a emergency level, each was basically dedicated to one; from starboard to port; navigator, pilot, weapons and communications. Riddick was in the pilot slot, Jeeter in the locked off weapons slot and Ben was in the communications slot.   
  
The one minute warning sounded. Jenna had already greened her boards. A sudden urge hit Riddick.  
  
"Captain, do you have the same special vids here that you have on the Butch Cassidy?"  
  
The look Jenna gave him was puzzled.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then, why don't you tell Jeeter to close his eyes and show Ben what your world looks like."  
  
He knew she was getting ready to refuse when Jeeter made the difference. He clapped his hands securely over his eyes and pushed her the other way.  
  
"Yeah, Lady. Let him see it."  
  
Riddick watched as she engaged the vids and, with the same smooth motion, took the stick just as the auto would have engaged.  
  
The bridge turned into five stations floating in open space that slowly began rising out of the jumble of freighters, transports and skiffs and then rapidly flew in formation toward the living darkness of between orbits. The only sound was Ben's awed whisper.  
  
"Beautiful." 


	10. Chapter 10 Best Be Bold

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 10 - BEST BE BOLD  
Jenna allowed Ben five minutes of euphoria before switching off the vids. She wouldn't have followed Riddle's and Jeeter's urgings if she hadn't known that Ben would appreciate it. His favorite meditation spot was on the ledge outside his apartment windows at the Institute, five stories up. Something that, oddly enough, gave her a queasy feeling. Hard concrete five stories below was much more threatening to her than limitless space.  
  
She knew that Riddle would immediately expect her to hand over the con and rest. She was not ready to do that. The meal had energized her and this was her time of the day. She had been a hard wired night person from the day she was born. That was one of the things she loved about off-planet; you could always find night by simply rotating the ship's orientation. Also, she wanted to reinforce the effect of whatever had occurred to so radically change Ben's view of himself and her while she was unconscious.  
  
What a stupid reaction that had been. She had never fainted before in her entire life. Even though waking up in Riddle's arms had been ....... well anyway, when time allowed, she would have Syrus run a full medical scan just to make sure it was only fatigue, vodka on an empty stomach, committing murder and ....... all right, and her newly discovered hyper-sexuality, thanks to Riddle, that had made Ben's reaction the last straw on her over-worked nervous system.  
  
Still, she knew that she didn't have to worry about it happening again. With the others she had always maintained her professional distance; being nothing more than their in-house psychiatrist, psychologist and shoulder to cry on. Even with Carl (she couldn't think of the past and call him David), she had only felt a comfortable friendship. That was why she completely failed to give Nora (Sasha was such a stupid name) the pain and angst that she loved to feed on when Carl returned from that convention with his new wife in tow. Jenna's only emotion had been sadness for Carl, for the pain she could see waiting for him when Nora began to show him her true nature.  
  
Only with Ben had she allowed the emotions to flow both ways. Even thought she had been barely four years older than him when he arrived at the Institute, he had fixated on her as the replacement for the mother that had 'deserted' him. Her family having been taken from her even earlier, she had turned eight a month after she walked through the Institute's doors for the first time, she empathized deeply with him and gave him the place in her heart that had belonged to a baby brother that she had hardly known.  
  
It was this emotional tie that had made his reaction to her appearance, so unlike her normal attire and so like that of his mother, such a vicious blow. That and the guilt. Guilt because she had clung to him as much as he to her and had not done her job, had not slowly weaned him away from his need for her, had not done what was necessary to make sure that he matured into as normal an adult as was possible for someone so totally gifted in such a limited range. But, even worse guilt that tonight she had carelessly and thoughtlessly caused him such pain because she was so focused on her own needs and desires.  
  
But maybe the months of semi-separation while she worked on the escape project had accomplished some of that necessary separation and maturing. She couldn't believe that the change in him that had occurred in the few minutes that she was unconscious could have happened without some prior distancing. Still, it was nearly miraculous. Jenna had a deep suspicion that Riddle was the miracle worker. But like a great deal too many other things, discovering what had happened would have to wait until later. She turned her thoughts back to present problems.  
  
"Jeeter, you can open your eyes now and you and Ben can explain why we need uniforms."  
  
Ben started talking immediately.  
  
"We have to have uniforms, Jen. Cameron is making noise and Sasha is backing him. They want a meeting and a vote. Mr. Sen told them they could have it as soon as we wake up after the hyper jump. You know that Sasha will make David vote her way. That makes three to our two. We have to have both Mr. Sen and Syrus on our side and what both of them respect is dotting the 'i's and crossing the 't's; remember lecture number one - preparation, organization and presentation. We have to walk into that meeting looking like a captain and her crew and shove it down their throats."  
  
Jenna measured the importance of this to Ben by the total lack of hacker lingo. The fact that she would have to deal with an open challenge so soon was immensely important to her, also.  
  
"You agree with this Jeeter?"  
  
"Yeah, Ben's got it right. You gotta walk the walk and talk the talk or people don't listen. But ..... well, I know where Barrol's coming from, too. I don't wanna wear no official looking straight jacket either. Ben says that you got an automated tailor shop on board. Says it has every kinda clothes from every time and place you can think ah in its memory. So I thought that you could come up with something that looks .... well, that makes our point but something Barrol and I can live with."  
  
Ben was right about the automated tailor. Sasha had almost driven her crazy over the programming for that damn machine until she had located an association of historical societies that specialized in authentic costuming. With their information added to all of the current designs that she had been able to collect, Sasha had finally been satisfied. No, placated was a better term. Sasha was never satisfied. The thing was also totally functional because Sasha had demanded that she be able to start on her new wardrobe immediately.  
  
"Just what point are we trying to make? Shoving it down their throats and talking the talk and walking the walk sounds a bit more aggressive than just showing a united presence. Am I to assume you want something they will find intimidating?"  
  
Ben and Jeeter spoke as one.  
  
"Yes!"  
  
Then Jeeter added to it.  
  
"But ... well, kinda toner, too. Kinda like Barrol's shiv insteada a machete."  
  
Jenna couldn't help but smile at this comparison. Jeeter definitely had a very effective way of defining by simile. If this was the look they wanted, Jeeter's and Riddle's aversion to the typical commercial or military ship's uniforms was an advantage. She personally had never been impressed with them. The commercial ones screamed employee. The military didn't get intimidating until you moved down to the actual combat troops.  
  
To her, all present day uniforms and dress lacked the flare and vigor of earlier eras. With a few rare exceptions, men's clothing in general had begun to dull out with the invention of trousers by Beau Brummel in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century, A.D., on Earth Prime. Of course, she thought, that probably had more to do with the rise of the common man and his violent treatment of anyone who didn't look as common as he did, than with poor Beau's trousers. Those rare exceptions were all in dictatorships, whether political or religious, and they rarely came up with anything truly unique. Most just reached back into Earth Prime history to find something they liked. Dictators were not noted for innovative or subtle thinking and their brand of intimidation had some pretty strict guidelines.  
  
Of course, what was a captain between orbits but a dictator. Now, how could she communicate that without alienating the others completely. After all, this whole thing was their reaction to Galactic's intention to enforce authority over them and 'dictate' the nature and direction of their researches. Some sort of official ship's dress was a good psychological tactic but only if she could keep the intimidation on a subconscious level. She decided that the best approach was to make it a game that they would want to play in which acceptance of her authority was a logical part. That settled in her mind she needed to concentrate on several other things that would be more important in the long run.  
  
"Ben, take Jeeter and Barrol down and get their physical stats into the machine and wire it into the main computer so we can do this from the bridge. And Ben, limit access to the programming to the bridge and lock the pod off so that no one else can get into it until we are finished with it."  
  
As soon as the three men had left the bridge by the starboard-aft hatch, Jenna put the ship on auto nav and began taking care of the important business. First, she accessed the library files and had six copies of the pertinent sections of "Universal Space Law" queued to the bridge printer. That would take care of establishing her qualifications for captain and Cameron's lack of them.  
  
Next, she started taking care of the future. She made notes for Ben on the new identities she required in the registry of ships and for herself. She had never really liked the surname she had chosen and it certainly didn't fit with her change in status. Etta Pace had been nothing more than a camp-follower. She also wanted the ships' names to have a more nautical reference, as well. But she did like her chosen first name. She decided to only shorten it, as Ben did, and to change the spelling to make the gender questionable and remove any possibility of it showing on an alphabetic trace search. As soon as Ben made those changes, Djin Blakney would be the sole owner of the heavy freighter 'White Cliffs', the transport 'Channel Runner' and the skimmer 'Red Flower'. Once the others were delivered, all she would need to do would be change the id broadcasters of the ships to match the new registrations and begin using her new identity papers. Ben could set up an automatic hack that would allow her to remove the old ones with one simple command. She added that to the notes.  
  
Then she referenced the legal section again and researched three types of ship's contracts. The first two were standard crew and passenger contracts for the commercial heavy freighter 'Hole in the Wall'. These she found acceptable as they were, filled in the ship's name and registry and queued copies to the bridge printer. The third, a crew-for-share contract for the independent trader 'White Cliffs', required changes before it satisfied her and was also queued to the printer.  
  
The last thing she did was to add to her notes to Ben an order to create the White Cliffs Trading Co., complete with several bank accounts, and syphon off enough credits from the group's accounts to give her amply funds to carry her until she had a functioning business. The group's consolidated funds were so massive and so well invested they wouldn't even miss the amount she was taking. Hard science paid off a great deal better than soft. Besides, if you were going to be a pirate best be bold about it.  
*******************************************************  
Riddick had left the bridge without any argument. Ben and Jeeter had made their point about the uniforms to his satisfaction. But now, he was standing in the tailor's booth, his feet on the indicated marks on the deck, his hands on the indicated marks on the walls; spread-eagle and buck naked with his shiv a good six feet away. Even though he was holding the position voluntarily, it was too much like some he had been chained in for him to be anything but totally uncomfortable mentally.  
  
"Hey, Barrol, the machine wants to know which way you hang it?"  
  
It occurred to Riddick that things had been much easier when the little man was scared to death of him. He couldn't keep from growling.  
  
"You want lumps, Jeeter?"  
  
"It's the machine, not me."  
  
Ben came to the rescue.  
  
"I can put in a parameter for loose trousers. In fact, I can put in any parameters you want, leash Jen's imagination just a little. Believe me, she has a really active one."  
  
The booth signaled that it was finished taking his measurements and Riddick stepped out and begin getting dressed.  
  
"Yeah, I got that from the names of the ships. Ok, set it for roomy through the shoulders, too, and wide, heavy belts."  
  
He stepped out from behind the screens that separated the booth area from the rest of the shop and held out his shiv to Ben.  
  
"And see if you can program in a sheath for this, inside at the center back of my belt."  
  
Ben took the shiv gingerly, using only two fingers and his thumb. He laid it in a cubical that seemed to be a small version of the booth and had Riddick indicate the orientation he wanted. The machine hummed away and then signaled green. The sheath that appeared on the display, attached to the inside of a wide belt, was exactly what Riddick wanted. Jeeter took the clue. As Riddick retrieved his shiv, he put his own sticker and stun gun in the cubical.  
  
"Same thing, only boot sheaths. Sticker on the right and stunner on the left, both on the inside of the boot and on the inside sides."  
  
As Riddick made the mental note that Jeeter seemed to be left handed, Ben looked up questioningly.  
  
"That way you can get to 'em with either hand, kid, and it's harder for someone else to see 'em or grab 'em and use 'em against you."  
  
"X-er. But I have to get your measurements before I can program them."  
  
As Jeeter disappeared behind the screen, Riddick smiled. It seemed that Ben was already beginning his education in being calmly and coldly dangerous. He would have to clue Jenna in on that.  
  
"Which ones are you planning to program in for yourself, Ben?"  
  
Ben looked up at him with a hand-in-the-cookie-jar expression.  
  
"Will you and Jeeter teach me how to use them?"  
  
"Yeah. I think that you're right. Knowing that you can do something makes it easier not to do it until it's time for it. Start out with a stunner and we'll get to the serious stuff later."  
  
"X-er, First. I'll get one out of the weapons pod right now."  
  
This jerked Riddick's attention to full power.  
  
"Weapons pod? Now, who's idea was that?"  
  
"Well, Mr. Sen started it but Jen added to it. His list was all modern stuff but she likes antique weapons, blades mostly."  
  
Riddick wanted to know more.  
  
"Wall hangers, huh?"  
  
It took Ben a few seconds to understand what Riddick meant. He gave him a slightly disapproving look.  
  
"Oh, no. Real weapons. I did the searches to find them for her. Her favorite is a really nasty looking curved sword; I think they called it a scimitar. She's pretty good with it, too. I spy on her sometimes when she's working out alone. That's the only time she works with it, when no one else is around. She gets this ..... this kind of dreamy look on her face." The kid suddenly looked embarrassed. "Well, anyway. I better see what kind of stunner I can get."  
  
Riddick wanted to see just how extensive this weapons collection was. He followed Ben, throwing a an order over his shoulder as he went.  
  
"Stay here, Jeeter. We'll be right back."  
  
The modern weapons were a nice collection, just about what you would find in any Regular Forces small arms locker, nicely displayed in sets of twelve; non-lethal stun guns, lethal stun guns and rifles, hand disrupters, pulse rifles, hand lasers and laser rifles. Then came a good selection of various types of grenades, both gas dispensing and explosive, boxed by the gross. There were also sets of universal filter face masks, full coverage contamination gear and full body light armor that would protect against any of the modern weapons. Of course, Riddick knew of a lot of ways to get past all of it with stealth and a simple blade. As far as he was concerned all of it, except maybe the filter masks, just made a man an easily seen, easily heard target. Better to do the enemy before he had the chance to use his weapons. But if you vaguely knew what you were doing and were fighting someone else who vaguely knew what they were doing, it might help you stay alive.  
  
The problem was that except for the stunners, some of the not so nasty gas grenades and the filter masks it was all totally prohibited for sale to civilians, even mercs and planetary police and military. Having any of it brought the Patrol or the Regular Forces down on you immediately and both very definitely knew what they were doing. Of course, that applied to the weapons systems installed in the ships, too. Riddick wondered just what Mr. Sen was expecting to find where ever they were supposed to be going.  
  
He helped Ben choose a compact, very efficient and definitely non-lethal stunner and then got him to move on to Jenna's side of the pod. Her displays, again in sets of a dozen each, made his hand itch. He couldn't keep himself from reaching out and touching the cold metal. He even lifted some of the weapons from their racks and sampled their weight and balance. Even though most of them weren't his style, there wasn't a badly designed nor badly made one in the lot. They ranged from machetes through various styles of stickers and curved blade knives, the ones that really appealed to him, to equally varied styles of swords. There were also pikes and spears in many styles and even two sets of axes, one single headed and the other set with double heads. The swords were limited to weapons designed for one hand. As well as any two handed monsters being missing, he also noticed that there were none of the spindly dueling style blades that were so completely useless in the uncivilized environment of a real fight. He decided that Jenna had very good taste in blades.  
  
Then he came to a display that set his alarms off. Hell! it totally twisted his mind. The whole display was nothing but shivs and there were no duplications. What sent him reeling was that the one of a kind shivs were grouped and labeled with the makers' names. Right in the center was an almost complete collection, if his memory served, labeled "Riddick". Fuck! Now, how did he find out what was going on without tipping anything to Ben? He got lucky. Ben started the conversation.  
  
"That's Jen's pride and joy. She's been collecting pictures for a long time and, when I found a good weapons smith, they were the first things she had made."  
  
"Where did she get the pictures?"  
  
"From the files she was accessing for her research. She has degrees in Psychology, Sociology and Psychiatry down to here," He made a chopping motion at his wrist. "but Criminal Psychology is the specialty that really interests her."  
  
Riddick went cold. Jenna was a fucking yoyo. Ben didn't notice the change in him.  
  
"You can always tell when she has started on a new file. She starts muttering under her breath and then, if it's a really bad one, sometimes she ends up kicking the furniture around."  
  
Riddick got even colder.  
  
"If she hates criminals so much why doesn't she find another specialty?"  
  
Ben looked at him in total amazement.  
  
"Oh, First, you have it all wrong. It isn't the convicts she's mad at, it's the ....what's that word..... oh, yeah, it's the yoyos. That's what she says the convicts call the prison psychiatrists, yoyos. She starts out with comments like 'trite', 'lazy', 'stupid' and then she can get really colorful. That one there in the center, Riddick, His file really sent her over the top."  
  
"A furniture kicker?"  
  
"Oh, more than that. She stopped firing off detailed rebuttals to the yoyos and started sending them and requests for censure to all the profession organizations she belongs to. She spent over three years trying to get support and volunteers for independent committees to monitor and reform penal psychiatric systems every where there was one. It was a real fuser for her. None of those fat heads pulling down big fees were willing to waste their precious time on, their words, undesirables and unrepentant animals. You should have heard the names she called them. All she accomplished was to get a censure from the Foundation about spending too much time on it instead of the behavioral modification stuff that they were funding. She would have quit if Mr. Sen hadn't talked her out of it and gave her all the responsibility for getting the ships and other stuff for our escape to keep her busy."  
  
Riddick knew that his next question had nothing to do with anything but ego.  
  
"What was it about Riddick that set her off?"  
  
"I'm not sure. The way she talked about him, I could never figure out if she wanted him for a patient or a colleague. She said that he should be analyzing the yoyos; that he knew more about psychiatry and psychology than they ever would. She really fused when he was reported dead."  
  
Ok. Ego well fed. Time to get back to business. Jenna wasn't a yoyo but if she had studied his files so thoroughly why didn't she recognize him. His disguise wasn't that good and the shine and, because of her peculiar interest, the style of his shiv should have killed any doubts that it raised.  
  
"What did this 'Riddick' look like?"  
  
"I don't know. Jen has all physical descriptions and photos stripped from the files before she downloads them. She says she doesn't want any non-significant influences effecting her analysis. Are you really sure that I shouldn't have one of those, too?"  
  
The kid's eyes were gleaming as they scanned across the display of shivs. Riddick didn't want that kind of trouble. He had found out what he needed to know, that his identity was still safe, and it was time to get Ben away from temptation.  
  
"No. Until you learn how to use one, all you'll do is cut off your own fingers. Now, show me a scimitar."  
  
"Jen never had hers duplicated and I'm sure that it's in her pod."  
  
Riddick was disappointed. You could tell a lot about someone from the weapons they liked. He had learned a lot about Jenna in the last few minutes but her own personal blade really intrigued him. He motioned Ben out of the pod ahead of him, just to make sure that the kid didn't collect some other play toys for himself, then he had a second thought. Walking back to the rack of curved knives, Ben had said that Jenna's scimitar was curved, Riddick selected two; one about half sword size for himself and another about 3/4 the size of the first for Jeeter. He ginned. Rank did have its privileges.  
  
Then he ordered Ben to lock off the weapons pod. If any of the others got a wild hair up their ass to arm themselves he didn't want it happening. They finished their business in the tailor pod fairly quickly even though, while Ben was programming the boot sheath for his stunner, Riddick and Jeeter had an argument about how the curved knives should be worn. After a couple of jibes at Riddick about abetting Jenna's imagination instead of limiting it,  
  
"You know these are a sure way for us to wind up looking like characters from that vid show "Raiders From the Edge", don't you; all vinyl and syntho-rubber."  
  
Ben sided with him and produced a picture of the sheath and rig that Jenna used for her scimitar; a thin belt that was attached to a waist belt on the right side, ran diagonally across the belly and back and carried the sword sheath so that the hilt of the weapon was about six inches below waist level on the left. Even though the belt and rig were black syntho-leather, the simple, functional design made Riddick pretty sure that Jenna's taste didn't run to vinyl and syntho-rubber.   
  
Jeeter surrendered and, at Riddick's order, Ben had the tailor shop spit out finished belts and blade rigs for him and Jeeter; in black to match Jenna's. They both put them on immediately. Jeeter was definitely left handed. He had rotated the design of his rig so that the knife hung on the right hip. For his part, Riddick was totally satisfied with the fit of his shiv under the belt. He was surprised to find that he was pleased with something else. It had always been a necessity for him to hide his weapons but he found that he liked the well balanced weight of the large knife laying against his thigh.   
  
The image of the scimitar that was displayed along with Jenna's belt and rig had made Riddick hungry to touch the real thing. It had the same style and deadly beauty he went for in a shiv. As they locked off the tailor pod and headed back for the bridge. He couldn't keep from making one more try for it.  
  
"Ben, is there any way we can get into Jenna's pod?"  
  
Ben looked at him with a wiry, prideful smile.  
  
"First, I can hack anything electronic. Computer programming and hacking is just my hobby. Micro electronics; circuit boards, surveillance and detection gear, transmitters and blockers, etc.; that stuff is my field. You want Jen's scimitar, don't you?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The image of Jenna, standing tall with a wicked blade like that in her hand, gave Riddick one hell of a hard on. Now, what was that? He had run into a few female mercs, even a couple who had dressed like Jenna was dressed to get to him. There had been whores, too, who thought that he was drunk enough to not notice that they were going for his wallet. Surprise, Big Evil doesn't get that drunk. The second the weapons came out any urge he had to bed any of those women had disappeared so completely it was like it had never happened. Why was the idea such a turn on with this one? 


	11. Chapter 11 From Where I Sit

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 11 - FROM WHERE I SIT  
When Barrol had brought those huge ass .... what did you call 'em? They were smith made so he guessed that made 'em daggers but they looked a lot more like Barrol's shiv than his sticker but sure not something you could hide. Anyway, when Barrol had handed him one, Jeeter's first thought was that he would rather have a nice straight blade. Then he thought again. After all, Barrol was the pro. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to try and learn a few things from him.  
  
A'course the best weapon that Barrol had was those eyes. When Jeeter had seen 'em in the alley, he had thought he was dead. Yeah, they were his best weapon and his biggest problem if he didn't wanta get caught. That conversation Barrol and Lady had in the skimmer was interesting, though. If you could have that kinda eyes without the clubbers knowing about it, ...... now that was something to think about.  
  
He didn't agree with the kid about how Lady was going to react, she had more class than that, but he had problems with Barrol wanting to carry in the open. Then, when the picture ah her blade flashed on the tailor's screen, he figured out what Barrol was up to. He didn't know if Lady was the flowers and candy type but he was damn sure that Barrol wasn't the type to give 'em. But Barrol understood blades and in his own way he was being just as romantic as hell.  
  
As they entered the bridge and he saw the pleased look on Lady's face when she saw the daggers they were wearing and then when Barrol handed her her sword, that didn't surprise him. What did was the change in Barrol's face. Oh, it wasn't much. Wouldn't ah been anything at all for any other guy. But with Barrol, that flicker ah possessive pride was like a mountain scooting its ass over a couple ah feet. Jeeter wondered if the big guy knew just how deep he was digging himself in.  
  
Lady was class; the real stuff not the fake, look down your nose, kind. And she had brains, wasn't one ah those bleeding heart do-gooders that didn't know shit about how things really were and got bent when you told 'em. Lady wanted to know and she listened and learned quick. She looked at you, too, really looked at you and sorta saw what you were deep down inside. He knew she didn't buy his act with G from the very first. If she had, she woulda never ah offered a contract. Barrol had always played straight even with that grease ball G. Jeeter hoped that he intended to do the same with Lady 'cause if he didn't he would probably wind up just like G.  
  
And, the way she had handled G, and him looking so much like one ah her own people. That look on her face; that kind, gentle look ...... Holy Mother protect us. Jeeter shivered at the memory. It was worse than Barrol's cold, stone face. He didn't care and that was easy to understand. She did care, just like Barrol had told the kid, but it didn't make one little bit ah difference when it come to doing what needed to be done. When she got enough experience, Lady would be just as unstoppable as Barrol was even if it was for a lot more complicated reasons.  
  
These thoughts were reinforced when he got a look at the scribble pad she handed Ben. The kid was still busy pulling in the tailor program for her and only read it quickly before he handed it to Jeeter to hold. He had time to get a real clear picture ah what she was up to. Maybe 'Raiders From the Edge' wasn't the joke Ben thought it was. Lady was hijacking the ships and a nice starter stash and doing a real fine job ah it. But it looked like she wasn't doing it until later.  
  
Jeeter guessed that she was gonna get the others settled like they'd been talking about before she took off on her own. Guessed, too, that that 'later' was the difference between caring and not caring. Jeeter decided that put him on Barrol's side ah the line. 'Cept for the kid, he wouldn't have any problem with dumping the rest right now, between orbits. Then again, he might keep the little blond trick. Teaching the chit how she oughta behave might be a lota fun.  
  
He handed the scratch pad to Barrol. Damn, he didn't even twitch. Just looked it over and handed it back with a kinda twisted smile that Jeeter read as approval. Ok, so maybe this was Barrol's play, something he put in Lady's head. That didn't bother Jeeter. The ships was where Lady belonged. Barrol helping her get 'em was ok. But, just where did that leave Jeeter? So far Barrol had seemed ok with Lady bringing him along but that didn't mean he planned on it staying that way.  
  
"Jenna, where do Jeeter and I fit into this?"  
  
Sheeze, was the guy a mind reader? Sure he would be interested in where he stood but he'd included Jeeter. Was he on the level about that?  
  
"Jeeter, please get the printouts over there for me."  
  
Giving the scratch pad back to Ben, he walked over to the area Lady pointed at and found a pile ah papers in a tray. As soon as he picked up the papers the tray disappeared back into the wall. Shit, this ship was something else. And that weapons slot. He hadn't seen anything like that since he went AWOL. The raider ship that took him on was nothing but a jury-rigged, junk yard.  
  
From the second he sat down in that slot, he wanted to start touching the controls, running checks, seeing what she had. Man, what a rush. Little Migelito, who couldn't get beyond gunny mate 3rd 'cause ah where he come from, getting his hands on a sweet system like that. But take it slow. Don't stick your head up until you know where the shooters are. He handed the papers to Lady.  
*****************************************************  
When she saw the Persian daggers, Riddle's was actually a short sword, and her own scimitar, Jenna was immediately intrigued by the idea of openly displayed weapons. It wasn't the least bit subtle unless you compared it to carrying disrupters and pulse rifles. Still, it could be considered somewhat ceremonial and ..... well, damn, she really liked the idea of doing it. She knew, of course, that this was not behavior common to criminals so she was sure that Riddle had found out about her love of blades and had done this with the intention of pleasing her. She liked that, too.  
  
No matter what his motives, he was the first person to ever make the effort to find out what really appealed to her rather than just assuming she fit the usual mold of her gender and her class. Even if he turned out to be a rotten son of a bitch in the end, he was paying her the compliment of recognizing her individuality. He was also demonstrating a very interesting level of intelligence in her own fields. Good con men usually did. But, Riddle was a contract killer and very, very few of them ranked high in psychological subtlety. Psychopathic killers often did but they were rarely successful contract killers, preferring victims that matched their own personal needs rather that those that someone else wanted dead. But for all of the psycho-babble, it finally came down to the fact that Riddle just didn't ring her very well developed internal alarms as a psychopath.  
  
The question was how Riddle had found out about this side of her nature. It was quickly answered as Ben pulled up the information that they had already entered into the tailor programming. Since Ben had acquired a stunner, the sheath for one being programmed for his right boot, they had to have visited the weapons pod. Ben, who obviously had a bad case of hero worship when it came to Riddle, would have been like a child being given the chance to demonstrate his knowledge to a responsive adult. He would have told Riddle everything that he asked and probably a lot more. Jenna wondered just how much of that was information about her that she really didn't want him knowing.  
  
That problem, however, would have to wait. A more serious one was Ben's having a weapon. She gently broached the subject with him. His explanation that it was non-lethal and that 'First' wasn't going to let him have a blade until he taught him the proper way to handle one reassured her. Riddle had already voiced his understanding that committing murder was something that would be very detrimental to Ben's borderline mental stability. Now, it seemed that he had been able to find a suitable solution to Ben's problem with Cameron. Since Jenna was now in a position to protect Ben from any outside retribution, she had no problem with him having the ability to shock Jeff Cameron into a groveling puddle of protoplasm whenever the man aggravated him. Cameron was a classic bully and was long over due for a lesson in good manners.  
  
Ben also mentioned Riddle's having the weapons pod locked off. His believing that this precaution was necessary, set Jenny to thinking about the contents of other pods. While none of the laboratories and shops with the exceptions of the tailor, the armory and the infirmary were totally functional, many could be brought into working order quite quickly and many contained materials that could be used to make weapons of one sort or another. Jenna instructed Ben to use the main computer to lock off everything but the infirmary and the living quarters, including all engineering sections of the ship and the bridge and auxiliary bridge, immediately and the BC's bay as soon as the others were finished unloading the bus. She had him key the hatch locks to answer only to voice command and only to the voices of the four now occupying the bridge.  
  
While discussing this with Ben, Jenna had seen Jeeter's and Riddle's reactions to the scratch pad. When Riddle's question came, she decided that it had more to do with Jeeter than with himself with the possible exception of his wanting to know just how far she had thought this through. She felt a definite ripple of pride as she sorted the papers into four piles and the fourth pile into several page packets. Picking up these packets, she gave each man one.  
  
"These are the laws governing the requirements that need to be met for anyone to qualify as a ship's captain, the rights and responsibilities of a ship's captain and the acceptable punishments for any interference with his ability to exercise them." She handed the rest of the pile to Ben. "I want you to hand these copies out to the others as soon as we walk into the conference room."  
  
She went on to the second pile.  
  
"These are standard crew contracts for the 'Hole in the Wall'. Sign them with any name but the one you intend to use permanently. Ben can register them in the ships records and give each one a light background, just enough to pass a crew check if we run into that problem."  
  
She filled out the position description for each man and signed as 'Captain Jenna Pace' before passing the contracts to them: Riddle, First Officer/Pilot; Jeeter, Second Officer/Chief of Security; Ben, Com Operator. She didn't want Ben in the line of command for two reasons; first, he wasn't qualified for it and, second, if things blew up in their faces, he would be far less criminally liable.  
  
"Chief of Security? Just what does that mean, Lady?"  
  
"It means that as soon as we are out of hyper, you will be spending your time in the simulator until you can get a passable score on the weapons slot. In fact, all of you are going to put in simulator time until we have as full a coverage of all bridge slots as we can get."  
  
"Is that were you learned to fly and pilot, sweet thing? It must be top of the line."  
  
Jenna was chagrined to find that she liked his use of that nick-name. Somewhere during the night, it had stopped being irritating.  
  
"Yes to both questions. It's the prototype for the latest military upgrades. Cameron was solving some engineering and hydraulics problems for them and Ben was twinking the programming. Once they were satisfied with the production models, Mr. Sen talked them into letting us keep the original for a play toy; something to keep the brilliant children from becoming bored and troublesome. Ben had a great deal of fun adapting the programming to the specifications of our equipment."  
  
"Sure I did, Jen, but tell the truth. You were the reason we got to keep it. When they saw the way you took to it, it was a done deal. They would have done anything to stop the publicity you were causing."  
  
This was definitely a subject that Jenna didn't want taken any further. She picked up the rest of the crew contracts and the pile of passenger contracts and handed them to Ben.  
  
"Bring these to the meeting but hold on to them until I tell you otherwise."  
  
She then handed each man a copy of the final contract.  
  
"This is the answer to your first question, Barrol. You and Jeeter already have my word on the original contracts we made; new identity and set-up funds. If either of you decide you would rather stay with me, this is the contract I offer in addition to that one. Take your time reading it since it can't be signed until you have decided on your permanent name. Ben, if you wish to stay with me you will have to decide on another name, also, one that the others can't know.  
  
"The major change from the standard contract is in the shares section. Since all ship's costs are met before shares are calculated, I see no reason for me, the captain/owner, to receive any greater personal share than anyone else. I don't intend to take on crew for nothing but lumping and other menial duties and will expect everyone to be as knowledgeable as possible in as many areas as possible. Since our profits will depend so equally on all of us doing the best we are capable of, I see no justification for anything other than equal shares. Now, read them over carefully and then we will lock them away until it is time to use them.  
  
"Ben, make the same changes to the ship's record vault and the main computer as I ordered for the hatch locks. When you lock up the shares contracts, pull identity packets for Barrol and Jeeter. They can work on those while you do your hacking and I see what I can come up with on these uniforms. Any questions, gentlemen?"  
  
There didn't seem to be any. Riddle and Jeeter signed the 'Hole' contracts and handed them and the shares contracts back to Ben. He also signed his 'Hole' contract and, setting all three aside for data entry, stored all the shares contracts in the records vault and handed Riddle and Jeeter identity packets. Soon, all three were diligently working away on their various assignments. Even Riddle was working on the new identity section of the packet. Jenna bent herself to the task of the uniforms.  
  
It wasn't as hard as she had thought it might be. The required boot sheaths gave her a good selection of foot wear to choose from and she decided on a square toed, knee-high model. Then came the search for loose trousers that were cut to be worn inside boots. She whittled down this selection to two; the Nazi and the Cossack. She decided that the Nazi was just too military looking, that its stiff tailoring was at odds with the artful lines of the Persian daggers and scimitar. The Cossack's relaxed folds and gathers were much more the style she was looking for.  
  
She stayed in the 'Russian' section with the shirt search since it had a great many styles with loose cuts and full length puffed sleeves. She passed on the high-buttoned necked styles and choose the more relaxed took of one called the Gypsy that had a wide turned down collar and lapels and a laced closure up the front. She added the waist length, open front vests that were displayed with the Gypsy but removed all of the fancy decoration from them. After she keyed for various weights of a comfortable material labeled syntho-cotton (everything in the inner cluster was syntho unless you had more credits than God), she put the whole ensemble, including daggers and scimitar onto images of herself and the others.  
  
Except for the white of the shirts and the glint of the gold and steel of the weapons, it was black on black and it looked very good. She did have to add a back panel under the laced front to her own shirt but nothing else needed changing. All in all, she thought they made a rather dashing group, more pirate or privateer that official military but without the excess individualism of the rogue. She flashed the image onto the bridge's forward viewer.  
  
"Well, gentlemen, what do you think?"  
  
The reactions were a bit mixed.  
  
"Wow, X-er for everyday but what about dress uniforms?"  
  
"You wanta have some kinda insignias, too, with rank and slot."  
  
"Yeah, and Jen should look different from the rest of us. Stand out as the leader."  
  
Only Riddle remained silent but his face wore a wicked smirk that told her he had his own changes in mind. Jenna threw up her hands, mentally.  
  
"All right, gentlemen. I intend to go to my pod to clean up and change into something more presentable. You have until I finish doing that to make any changes you want. Just remember that I have last say, which could include a little bit of revenge if you get too wild."  
  
This last was spoken directly to Riddle. His reaction wasn't what she expected.  
  
"No. Make a list of what you need from your pod for Jeeter. You can use the bridge lounge and fresher. Until we have that meeting and know friend from foe, you aren't getting out of my sight."  
  
"Same here, Lady."  
  
Ben was nodding furiously in agreement. Well, that certainly made it unanimous. She made the list.  
  
While Jeeter fetched her things, she worked on the insignia requirement. She finally settled on a gold sunburst as the main motif to continue the imagery of the ships' present names. For the captain's rank she used a large version of the sunburst with nothing else added. For the other ranks she used a smaller version with the upper left quarter removed and replaced with common symbols for the slot designations also done in gold: pilot, a finned needle-nosed ship; security, a dagger like Jeeter's sticker; com, a round oscilloscope display.  
  
She also added insignia for a ship's doctor, the Caduceus; and for both types of ship's engineers, two interlocked gears for one and image of an atom with its circling electrons for the other. The next was a challenge. She had a crew position in mind for Sasha that would not only keep her occupied but also provide a very useful function. The problem was choosing a title and insignia for it that would satisfy her preference for flash and yet be dignified enough to give her real status in the eyes of the others. A lot of the problems with Sasha came from her feelings of inferiority.  
  
Jenna finally came up with 'Environment Enhancement Officer' and a slot symbol containing a wine bottle and glass fronted by a cluster of grapes. Instead of the silhouette style used with the other symbols, she had this one lined in gold but colored to show the wine in the bottle and glass and the matching variety of the grapes. As a last thought, she called up a deep sleeved oriental robe that she knew Mr. Sen liked, colored it black and added an insignia with a yin/yang symbol to its left breast. She stored the records of all of this, added the proper insignia to the left breasts of both the vests and the shirts of the display and titled it 'Duty uniforms'. If the others wanted dress uniforms they could do the work on them.  
  
When Jeeter returned, she put the display on the main viewer. All three men voiced their satisfaction with the insignia but she would see that they were anxious to add their own touches to the project. In fact, she sensed a conspiracy between the three and was sure that it involved her uniform much more than theirs. She quickly withdrew to the lounge with a mental prayer that they wouldn't go over the edge with whatever it was they had in mind.  
  
She had put a sweat suit and running shoes on the list but, after finishing a sinfully long shower and soak, she settled for the simplicity of wrapping herself in the ample folds of her heavy, full length bath robe. Why put in the effort to dress completely when she would be changing clothes again as soon as they settled the uniform question.  
  
She even ignored the shoes and padded bare-foot onto the bridge, settling into the command slot somewhat like a cat curling up on a cushion. She fully expected Riddle to start nagging her to go back to the bunk room and rest but instead he crossed to the galley and returned with a steaming cup of coffee for her. Then he bent close and whispered to her.  
  
"We need to force Cameron's hand, have that meeting just before we can hyper and then get them all drugged before they have too much time to think about it. If we think that any of them need to be on house arrest, they'll cooperate about it or risk going hyper conscious. I've already collected Jeeter's and Ben's hypos and all the recovery hypos from Syrus. I watched him prepare them just in case he had jumped the wrong way already."  
  
Jenna smiled.  
  
"I suppose that you noticed the slight resemblance he has to Mr. G and are judging him by the same standards. Don't. Syrus could have found a hundred ways to mess with the hypos no matter how closely you watched him. But don't worry about that. Unless he has decided that he wants to be captain himself, he isn't a threat. Since his research is his total passion, that is highly unlikely. I predict that he won't involve himself at all until he's sure who is going to be the winner and then only to insure that he will be able to continue his research as soon as possible. It's Mr. Sen that I'm worried about. I'd swear that the word inscrutable was invented personally for him. I've never been able to read him underneath."  
  
Riddle chuckled and Jenna had an insane urge to place her hand on his chest to see if the vibrations this created felt as good as they sounded. The words that followed that chuckle cleared that thought from her mind completely.  
  
"What you seem to think was a 'slight' resemblance almost got Syrus killed, twice. You really should have warned us that he was G's identical twin."  
  
Jenna was shocked.  
  
"I can't believe that. It couldn't take more than a few seconds to realize that Syrus wasn't G."  
  
Riddle brought his mouth very close to her ear.  
  
"In the world Jeeter and I live in, death doesn't take more than one of those seconds. You better be very sure you want to live that way before you go any farther, sweet thing."  
  
What was this? A concerned warning? Perhaps second thoughts about the part he had played in enhancing her self-awareness? Or was it another of his tests? Another in the almost constant barrage of them that he had aim at her from the very beginning?  
  
He pulled back and she was looking at her own reflection once again. She was beginning to really hate that. Eyes had always been her focal point, even as a small child. They were the one feature by which she could identify someone no matter how obscured the rest of their features and body were. They were the keys to her ability to read others. Her continuing inability to get a clear view of Riddle's eyes was becoming a crippling disability, the same one she had with Mr. Sen and his sleepy lidded eyes. She needed to get him on Syrus' table as soon as possible and get those shades out of the way. Of course, if she followed through with her own plans would she still have that same ability to read eyes? She answered that fear and Riddle's challenge with the same thought.  
  
"From where I'm sitting," she tapped the arm of the command slot with a finger nail, "I really don't have any choice, do I. Now, why don't you move off to a safe distance and show me what you and Jeeter have been up to with the uniforms."  
  
Riddle matched her own wicked smile.  
  
"Would out of arms' reach be safe or should I worry about your blade?"  
  
"That depends on what you've done." 


	12. Chapter 12 Some Answers More Questions

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 12 - SOME ANSWERS, MORE QUESTIONS  
Riddick wasn't about to go anywhere. He was going to keep the play where it belonged, between him and Jenna. He wasn't going to join Jeeter and Ben as part of the background. Besides, the way she looked and smelled, all warm and relaxed, wrapped in the comfortable safety of that sensible robe; only a fool would walk away from that.  
  
Her face, now totally free of make-up, was much prettier. To his shined eyes, make-up didn't enhance a face, it hid it. The mellow ivory of her complexion had a soft glow and her skin was unmarred except for a crescent scar at the corner of one eye. He couldn't stop himself from reaching out and tracing the scar as he moved behind her. She frowned but didn't flinch away. Riddick decided that it wasn't his touch but the scar that bothered her. He leaned over the back of the command chair so that his lips were close to her ear again and his nose was surrounded by the short curls of her hair.  
  
"Oh, I think I'll be safer here. Call up the 'Duty' display."  
  
He watched her note the changes. The only one made to the men's uniforms was to the vests. They were still open and waist length but the cut had been changed so that the corners at the bottom front were squared instead of rounded. All the rest of the changes had been made to Jenna's uniform.  
  
The Cossack pantaloons were gone, replaced by body hugging trousers that were only three levels of thickness away from being tights. The back panel of the shirt was gone, replaced by a white breast band and the lacing of the shirt was done very loosely. The short vest had been replaced with a thigh length, flared bottomed one with slits in the sides from the waist down to allow a hip slung weapon to be completely accessible. It was open like the shorter ones but had a thick gold chain stretching across the space to secure it at the waist. If Riddick remembered right, it had been called a Cavalier Coat before they had modified it into a vest by removing the sleeves, opening up the front and selecting a lighter weight material.  
  
While the men's uniforms accentuated their bulk and strength as, Riddick believed, Jenna's had intended them to do, her's now gave her a very stylish, lean look. This look was completed by the addition of platform soles to her boots approximately the same thickness as the ones she had been wearing earlier. He had placed her image slightly to the foreground of the display with the other three arranged behind her; he to one side and Jeeter and then Ben on the other. The captain/crew imagery was perfect both in placement and dress.  
  
Jenna's stylus danced across the control screen and suddenly Riddick's shirt didn't have any lacing, just a deep V that ended about three inches above his belt, displaying a nice strip of bare skin down the middle of his chest. Jeeter chuckled. His shirt got the same treatment. Ben became very interested in the overhead and his tightly laced shirt didn't change.  
  
Riddick had no complaints with her changes. She had warned them about the possibility of revenge and now he knew that she hadn't been trying to throw a bluff. The difference in shirts separating himself and Jeeter from Ben was also a good move. He knew that Jenna was planning on drawing as many of the others as possible into the crew as a way of reinforcing her position as captain. She had printed out too many copies of the crew contract not to have that in mind. He would make sure that any of the others that joined the crew received shirts like Ben's; keep the lines drawn and it wasn't so hard to keep control. He made a counter move by removing the lacing from Jenna's shirt so it was like his and Jeeter's. It really didn't make any difference in the amount of skin showing with the loose lacing and it looked better. It also made the rank designation of the shirts obvious. Jenna must have agreed with those opinions since she didn't reverse the change.  
  
Jenna moved to the important changes. A shiv sheath had been added to the inside of her belt. When she gave him a questioning look, Riddick informed her that she was going to learn how to make her own. Just as he had expected, this seemed to please her. Her only reaction to the sticker and stunner sheaths that had been added to her boots was to add a stunner sheath to Riddick's boot. He gave her points for where she put it; on the inside of the right boot, left hand accessible and leaving his right hand free for his shiv. He got her message loud and clear.  
  
"This mean we're still playing 'nice'?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
Her glow had developed a definite flush and those pheromones were back. He expected her to shift away from him. Instead she leaned her head back, exposing that luscious neck. While he was focused on thoughts of what it might taste like, she turned her face toward him so that when she spoke again he got just what he had been giving her.  
  
"Now, shall I go on to the dress uniforms?"  
  
That warm breathy whisper caressing his ear sent nerve shocks clear to his toes but most of the effect went directly to his crotch. He was damn glad that the back of Jenna's chair was between him and everyone else on the bridge. Other women, a bold few, had tried to play his own game on him but none of them had ever been able to pull it off. They had all attempted to be aggressive like he was. Jenna had played a surrender game and then turned it on him before he knew what she was up to. If the prison yoyos had been as good as she was, they might have gotten somewhere with him, at least the females might have. A man could fake a lot of rehabilitation to get laid regularly. He could play 'nice' for the same reason until the time came not to. He watched her flip the screen and waited for the explosion.  
  
The shirts and trousers, both theirs and Jenna's, were now black satin, the vests a metallic gold and the insignia on the vests done in black. The only change in the style of the clothing was Jenna's shirt. The breast band was gone. The shirt, still with its huge puffed, wrist length sleeves, had been cropped short and chinched with a narrow band just under her breasts that closed with a gold clasp designed to look like three links of the same type of chain that secured the vest at the waist. The open neck didn't have any lacing and it didn't end until it reached the chinch band on either side of the clasp. The collar and lapels were not as large as those of the full shirts but still held the vest where it belonged. The cleavage shown added to the wide strip of bare mid-drift made a tasty display in Riddick's opinion.  
  
With a murmured "Ok." Jenna made a pass at the screen. Riddick's and Jeeter's shirts weren't altered; they disappeared completely. Ben was given the benefit of the doubt, again.  
  
Riddick liked the way Jenna was playing the game. No conservative regrouping or retreat; she attacked, making them give the same as they got. He felt a wicked thrill as Jenna's eyes widened and her mouth formed an 'O' at the sight of his bare arms and almost bare chest. The thrill ended as soon as her eyes traveled to Jeeter's image and her reaction was also one of appreciation. He stopped watching her and looked at the display again. Well, shit. Jeeter had been running a scam. For his size and narrower frame, the little man was almost as buff as Riddick. He could feel his eyes narrowing and knew he was giving other, visible, clues. He knew it because Jeeter had suddenly stiffened and was watching him with that which-way-you-gonna-jump look in his eyes. He was very grateful when Ben broke the mood.  
  
"Boy, am I going to have to start working out."  
  
As Jenna laughed, Riddick relaxed and saw Jeeter do the same.  
  
"You'll have time, Ben. You don't loose your shirt until you get command rank."  
  
Jenna went into a fit of giggling as soon as the last word was out of her mouth. Ben got that gleam in his eyes again.  
  
"And I get a dagger then, too, don't I?"  
  
Jenna stifled her laughter enough to say "Yes." and then it broke out again.  
  
She sounded so young, so joyful. Riddick didn't want to do anything but enjoy listening to her laughter. Laughter like that wasn't something he heard in his world. But there was that look on the kid's face. Hell, he had signed on as a pilot and a weird kind of .... the only phrase that came to mind was 'native guide' like in one of those tourist safari vids. That being the deal, what was all this responsibility crap he was getting into? He tried to make himself believe that his concern for Ben was nothing more that part of the job but he finally had to admit the truth.  
  
It was because Ben was so much like Jack, like Jack was before the darkness, the blood, and the death had given her nightmares. She had gotten over them. Riddick had made sure of that before he left her and Iman. Made sure of it by teaching her everything that he could until she was certain that she could protect herself, be safe without him there. But no matter what he had tried, the tough bravado and smart-assed insolence were gone forever, her open curiosity replaced by wary watchfulness.  
  
He guessed that he was going to have to do the same for Ben, do it before there were the nightmares and the changes. Of course, if either Jack or Ben ever had to use what he taught them, there would be different nightmares. That was the price you paid for being the one that lived. The price you paid until you finally figured out that it was all God's big joke and he was the fucker that deserved the nightmares. Riddick hadn't had nightmares for a very, very long time.  
  
He decided to take care of two problems at the same time; Ben's and the one he had just caused with Jeeter. He gave Jeeter a nod toward Ben.  
  
"I'll make you a deal, Jeeter. I'll teach both of you about shivs if you'll take on training Ben with a sticker and with the weights. Set him a schedule and show him how to do it right so he doesn't get hurt."  
  
Jeeter smiled and nodded at him.  
  
"It's a deal, First."  
  
Then, Jenna added to the mix.  
  
"You really should include Mr. Sen in that. He's an expert at martial arts. His special interest is unarmed hand-to-hand and hand-to-weapon. I don't think there is a move he doesn't know nor one that he can't counter and he makes his short stature an advantage rather than a liability. He's the one who taught me the perverted uses a knowledge of nerve points could be put to."  
  
Riddick and Jeeter both received the warning concerning Mr. Sen and neither made any further comment that could clue Ben into what had happened earlier that evening. While Ben had gone along with their changes to Jenna's clothing, knowing what she had done to G wouldn't be something he could deal with yet, if ever. Riddick suddenly became very interested in just how far Jenna's combat and weapons training had gone. He had a disturbing though that he just might find himself learning as well as teaching.  
  
Jenna, her amusement under control, continued with the business at hand.  
  
"Does anyone have any further changes they wish to make?"  
  
She paused, received only silence and continued.  
  
"All right. I'll put the order into the tailor."  
  
She began keying while she continued talking. Riddick found himself wishing that Ben and Jeeter weren't there and he and Jenna could have continued the virtual striptease and whatever else it might had led to. But, she made the games enough fun that he was willing to take his time getting her into bed.  
  
"It shouldn't take long for the tailor to produce everything. Jeeter, Ben, as soon as the tailor is finished I want you to get the clothing and the weapons we have added. You may have to try a few daggers before you find one that will fit my boot sheath properly. And Ben, see if I have something in my private collection that will fit the sheath that Barrol put on my belt until I have the time to make my own."  
  
She was keying too much to be simply ordering up the uniforms. Riddick was beginning to wonder what she was up to when she explained.  
  
"I'm ordering a new belt since that is easier than modifying the old one. You'll probably need to get a rolling cart from one of the laboratories since I'm ordering one dress and seven day uniforms for each of us. I'm also adding something we all forgot; ten pairs each of boot socks. Jeeter, Barrol, I suggest that both of you check the catalogues and order any personal wear and clothing for off duty that you would like to supplement what you've brought with you. We have a little time to kill and might as well have fun with it. You should also get your luggage from the skimmer. We'll keep everything here on the bridge until after we go hyper and I can show you your assigned apartment pods. As soon as we are in proper ship's dress, we'll have that meeting the others want."  
  
'Personal wear'. Damn, Riddick decided that he must be adjusting to the way she talked because he made the translation immediately. Of course, her mentioning it right after 'socks' helped. New clothes, new underwear; why not. He had been buying the cheapest of everything, saving for his eyes, so why not take the opportunity. But he sure wasn't going to do his shopping on the screen in front of Jenna. He went back to the pilot slot.  
  
Jeeter hadn't made a move toward his own screen. When Riddick pulled up the underwear section on his, 'personal wear' was what you had to enter to get to it, Jeeter gave him a grateful face and began his own shopping. Riddick couldn't decide if Jeeter hadn't made the translation at all or was just unsure he was right about it. Riddick chose boxers and tank style undershirts in a soft silky material, in black. Then, he punched up the robe section. As this was loading, he glanced across at Jeeter's screen. He was still in the underwear section and was studying a screen full of complicated pattern samples and the pallet of chosen colors he was working with was huge. It figured.  
  
Riddick went on to get a bath robe that was the male equivalent of what Jenna was wearing, in black. Then he chose several types and styles of exercise clothing, in black. With that, he shut down his entry into the tailor program and walked back over to Jenna. They watched in companionable silence for quite a while as Ben continue his hacking and Jeeter continue working the tailor program. It was a nice feeling but strange, not something that Riddick felt often, never before with a woman. Finally, he broke the silence.  
  
"Is he going to have enough closet space in that pod?"  
  
Jenna smiled tolerantly.  
  
"He really isn't going as wild as it looks. He's spending most of his time on modeling the selections and choosing colors and patterns. As soon as we get our eye surgeries, you should give him your shades so that he can open those closets without blinding himself. He has a very flashy inner-self, loves variety and is definitely looking forward to off duty time and shore leave."  
  
Riddick looked at Jenna's display and saw that she was monitoring the activity on Jeeter's. So much for using the pilot slot to shop in private.  
  
"I suppose you watched what I was getting, too?"  
  
She met his disapproval with a playful smile.  
  
"Yes, but while I'm very curious, I'm not a total snoop. If you'll look at my screen again, you'll see that all I'm monitoring is section and function activity."  
  
He checked the screen. She was telling the truth. Now, he was curious.  
  
"You want to tell me what the game is?"  
  
She rewarded him with a mellow laugh.  
  
"It's a puzzle to solve. I'm making assumptions from that limited information. When the cart arrives I'll see how well I did."  
  
Now, he was even more curious, curious about how her mind worked with that kind of puzzle.  
  
"Show me how you do it. Replay the information on mine and tell me what it tells you."  
  
Her expression asked him if he was really sure he wanted to do this but she called up the replay.  
  
"Personal wear: two items, multiple copies; my guess, one style upper body garment and one style lower body garment. Robes: one item, single copy; a bath robe. Exercise wear: two multiple copy items and three single copy items. This one is a little more complicated. The multiples are either T-shirts or tanks and either shorts or sweats. I'll go with tanks and shorts. The three singles are paired or single garment suits designed for specific activities. I'd say a warm-up suit and one light weight and one heavy weight set of sweats. Since you chose only one color in each section and never visited the pattern pages, everything is the same solid color and that it is probably black. You took the standard fabrics for everything but the underwear."  
  
So she had been giving them the necessary entry words, not being 'proper'. Good.  
  
"I'd say that you splurged a little there and chose something a little daring, silky or satiny perhaps. You didn't get any sleep wear; you either sleep nude or in your underwear."  
  
Oh, yeah, definitely not 'proper'.  
  
"You didn't model anything; clothing is strictly functional for you and has nothing to do with your self-image. You didn't get any leisure clothing; you feel that as long as you are on the ship you are on duty and, when we make planet fall, whatever you have already will do or you will get something that blends in with the local customs because standing out is dangerous. I'll also bet my life savings that the restyle of the vests and the gold and satin material of the dress uniforms were Jeeter's idea and the tight trousers, bare skin and platform boots were yours. How am I doing?"  
  
He told her the truth and then changed the subject.  
  
"Too damn good but Jeeter deserved to lose his shirt almost as much as I did. Now, what did you mean when you said 'our eye surgeries'."  
  
Now, why did that question make her look so uncomfortable?  
  
"Well, it started because I'm ... I'm horribly myopic, near-sighted..... The awful truth is that I wear glasses with lenses that look like triple-layer plate glass and make me look like a pin-eyed owl because I can't even use eye-drops without having a minor panic attack. I had to wear contact lenses tonight for obvious reasons but Syrus had to put them in for me and he had to knock me out with gas for a minute or two to do it."  
  
Her confession made, she relaxed and stopped her unconscious stroking of the scar that had caught Riddick's attention earlier. He had a hunch that whatever had caused that minor scar had done some major emotional scaring at the same time. Panic over eye-drops just didn't match with the cool control of her reaction to a shiv pressed against a major artery. It seemed that everything he found out about her just led to even deeper layers to challenge him. It had been a long time since he had run into someone who challenged him. She had his total attention as she continued.  
  
"Anyway, when we were making the plans for his medical supplies, he flatly refused to 'clutter up' his surgery with obsolete optical equipment and insisted that I let him surgically correct the problem. Of course, I had the same problem with that as with contacts. To try and convince me, Syrus started giving me the total tour of what could be done to the human eye. That's when I found out about what you call a 'righteous shine'. One of Syrus' assignments for the Institute had been refining, improving and inventing optical surgical techniques and one of the ones he had worked on was righteous shines for the military and certain industries. So I finally agreed to the vision correction if Syrus would agree to give me night vision along with it. That's why I could offer you the same surgery as part of your contract. Syrus stocked up on all the latest equipment and supplies for all types of optical surgery including that one. You should start thinking about what color eyes you want. He has every color and shade of that color that you can think of."  
  
Fuck! What was wrong with her? She reads a bunch of prison reports about shines and gets some oh-gee-wow, how-cool shit going on in her head? The only reason anyone would give up what a shine cost you was to stay alive.  
  
"It doesn't matter. Anything but black/brown. That was what they used to be. You'll have to choose for me. With a shine you can't see colors right. It's like being color-blind in every way that you can be. You just have to guess. And vid screens, computer displays, spool readers, anything like that hurts like hell if you use them very long. Maybe I might have piddled around like Jeeter if colors had any meaning for me any more and if using the display too long wasn't going to make my eyes burn like fire and my head feel like it was splitting open. And righteous shines are just the same when it comes to that stuff. You trade a lot for that night vision, Jenna. You better be real sure that you have a good enough reason for making that trade before you do it."  
  
Suddenly Jenna was angry; ice and granite angry. When she finally spoke and her words told Riddick that he wasn't the object of that anger, he realized that he had been holding his breath.  
  
"That's what you were going to pay fifty thousand credits for?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And it was a legitimate physician?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"The dirty rotten bastards! They kept it for themselves, just like all the other things!"  
  
Riddick had a hunch that whatever was bothering her could give him a lot of answers about what was going on. He waited patiently for her to get to it in her own way.  
  
"You're in for a surprise, a very big surprise. Those problems were what Syrus was working on. He said that they had only added some sort of light-reactive chemical coating with a cosmetic color factor to the original process, your type of shine, to limit the night-vision effect and hide the shine in brighter light. He invented a completely new process for both the night-vision enhancement and the light-reactive limiting of it. He says that it not only doesn't interfere with color perception but actually enhances it." She laughed ruefully. "I know he meant that to reassure me but I can't help but wonder if someone else's idea of enhancement is the same as mine. But that really doesn't matter. What does is that you'll have color again and no problem with direct light sources like display screens. That's what you should have been able to get for your fifty-thousand credits!"  
  
Riddick was so overwhelmed with this possibility that he almost forgot he was hunting for different information. Almost but not quite.  
  
"And why couldn't I?"  
  
"Because the Institute sold out to the highest bidders! We found out that they had been lying to us, that our work wasn't being put into public domain. The Institute was allowing the military branch of United Worlds and Inter-Galactic Enterprises, the same military/industrial bully boys that have existed since the twenty-first century, have first call on everything. I don't need to tell you that they don't share well with others. When we protested, Galactic bought out our lifetime contracts with the Institute. Now, they not only own everything we develop, they are telling us what we will develop and denying funding for anything else."  
  
"And that's why you're running."  
  
"Yes."  
  
Fuck! Fuck!! FUCK!!! No wonder both ships were armed to the teeth and had hyper drive and electronic invisibility and that the weapons pod was stuffed with prohibited arms. They were going to have the whole galaxy on their tails. The Patrol, the Regular Forces, probably Special Opps and the sixty-five percent of the commercial community that was owned or proxy controlled by Galactic, aka: 'The Company', which meant mercs. He sure hoped that Ben had been right about everybody in the group being fucking geniuses.  
  
"Just where do you think you can hide out that will be safe from the Company, the Patrol and the Forces?"  
  
"That is not your worry. Even if you decide to make your position as First permanent you will have no reason to know where the others are. Any supply runs that I make for them, you and Jeeter will have shore leave, as you will when I deliver them and help them set up. Consider it fair return for their not knowing any of our new identities and the ships' new identities. There shouldn't be many runs. We've designed the community to be totally self sufficient if necessary."  
  
"The names all of you are using aren't your final names are they?"  
  
"No. And if either you or Jeeter don't stay, everything that Ben has just set up for me and for the ships will change again, too."  
  
Riddick understood where she was coming from but that didn't make him happy with it.  
  
"And what makes you and Ben knowing not a risk?"  
  
Damn, there was that strange, sad gentleness in her eyes that he had seen when she killed G. Riddick didn't think that he was going to like her answer.  
  
"Ben and I are not a risk because everyone in the group that wasn't naturally capable of suiciding if captured was heavily conditioned psychologically until they were. Now, please, go get the luggage from the skimmer."  
  
She turned her face away from him, got up from the command slot, picked up her coffee cup and walked into the galley without looking at him again.  
  
He should have seen that coming. Maybe he had suspected the first part of it but not the rest. He snapped orders at Ben and Jeeter, telling Jeeter to cut the shit with the tailor and both of them to get their butts in gear and collect the clothing and weapons, then bolted off of the bridge into the hanger bay. He lucked out. There was no one in the bay. He entered the BC to find that it was also uninhabited. The others seemed to have accomplished the unloading of the bus and disappeared into the rest of the Hole. He stepped onto the bridge of the BC, secured the hatch behind him and collapsed into a squatting position with his back against it. He rubbed his hand over his head and wished for the many millionth time that he could shave it again.  
  
The image in his mind was of Jenna; the sad, gentle eyed Jenna. She was laying beside him, warm and soft in his arms, that sweet, deep voice murmuring into his ear; telling him when and how he must kill himself.  
  
She was the shrink; who else would have given the others that conditioning? He wondered if she had recorded it for herself but then something told him that she hadn't been one of the ones who needed it. That wasn't the worst of his thoughts. What really had him twisted up was wondering if the ones that had needed it knew that was what they were getting. Did they know or did they go into that trance thinking it was only a simple smoothing out the psyche session and got themselves programmed for dying instead?  
  
Did Ben? For as certain as he was that Jenna hadn't needed to be programmed, he was just as certain that Ben had. How could she have done that? A kid that she cared so much about that his disapproval had sent her over the emotional edge, how could she have coldly programmed him to commit suicide? Riddick had thought that he had become one cold mother fucker but that was way beyond him.  
  
He rehashed the whole evening, searching for the patterns and, more important, for the exceptions to those patterns. Searching for the questions that she was damn well going to answer.  
  
When he walked back onto the bridge, Jeeter and Ben were bringing two lab carts through the other aft hatch. Jeeter parked the cart he was pushing on the bulkhead by the hatch. Ben parked the other cart by the hatch to the crew lounge. That was some fancy tailor machine. Everything on the carts except the boots were neatly folded and sealed in clear plastic packages with the name of the recipient printed on them in large block letters.  
  
On Jeeter's cart here was a small pile of plain black garments on one corner and the rest of it was anything but black and anything but plain. Riddick knew this had to be the extra stuff they had ordered up. Ben's cart held four piles of what must be the uniforms, four sets of boots and the added weapons. It also had a pile of huge fluffy bath towels and a pile of folded and packaged black garments that Riddick couldn't identify. But whatever they were, they had a lot of material in them. Riddick dropped Jeeter's two bags at his feet, swept his new clothing into his and then set it down beside the cart.  
  
Just then Jenna appeared in the galley hatch. When she located the uniform cart, a brilliant smile suffused her face. She crossed the bridge half dancing/ half running and disappeared into the lounge taking the cart with her. As the hatch closed behind her, Riddick found himself staring after her in total confusion. How could someone do what he had seen her do to G and what she had just admitted doing to her own people and still be so innocently joyous, like a child dressing for Carnival? 


	13. Chapter 13 Cowards or Confused

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
Chapter 13 - COWARDS OR CONFUSED  
Jenna felt like a coward, hiding out in the galley and then making that childish dash for the sanctuary of the lounge, but she just didn't want a confrontation with Riddle until after she had settled matters with the rest of the group. And she had no doubt that there would be one. There was no way he was going to let what she had just dropped on him remain where she had left it. She could just imagine the horrible conclusions that he was jumping to. The fact that some of them were probably true didn't help. She rationalized this deception with the fact that she was truly excited about the uniforms. Her childhood had been much too full of studies to ever allow for such frivolity.  
  
She sorted out the dress uniforms into four piles on one of the couches, her own little afterthought on the bottom of each. She made sure that the two black satin shirts, cut the same as their white duty shirts, were in Jeeter's and Riddle's piles. She had loved playing the game and wouldn't mind in the least having them running around shirtless for her enjoyment (Oh my, especially Riddle) but they needed to have a more civilized look for the benefit of the others. The group had to accept them as intellectual peers, as expert in their own field of knowledge as each of them were in theirs. Exaggerating the physical would make that even harder.  
  
There was also a change in Ben's shirts. Both duty and dress were now laceless like Riddle's and Jeeter's. He would have to earn his dagger but his loyalty had already earned him the right to stand out from any of the others that agreed to become crew. Nor would the others have gold dress vests. She had designated black satin for theirs. But, she had some other perks to offer in exchange. She added a bath towel to each pile and then concentrated on her own clothing.  
  
She had decided that she liked the design of the cropped dress shirt better that the full shirt with band and had ordered her white duty shirts in the same style. She had also made adjustments to the shirt, adding internal support and enhancement, and had ordered panties that wouldn't show under the tight trousers. While men knew what they liked to see, most of them really had no idea of the internal mechanics required to keep that look when you were doing anything other than standing perfectly frozen in the perfect pose. There was also her personal desire that she not visibly announce every cool air current and every reaction to Riddle with her nipples.  
  
She had never had any interest in clothing until her forays into the outside had forced her to make a study of it. She had been surprised to discover how dependent most people were on clothing in their judgements of others. It had opened a whole new world of psychological and sociological studies for her. Consequently, she had become very fashion conscious in an odd way, her judgement of such things not being her own set preferences but those of whatever environment in which she happened to find herself; a sort of relative fashion sense. Part of that education had been the secrets of making the designers' garments look and behave as they were intended to.  
  
Finding that the changes had been made to her satisfaction, she began dressing. Her mind turned to Riddle. He was not what she had expected. He was much more intelligent, more introspective and consequently much darker in his perception of others. He was totally a 'lone wolf' personality. This was not something that she would have found acceptable if she had any choice, if there had been any other candidate for the job. Yet, she had come to realize that something else was going on, something that was causing him to behave against type.  
  
The first clue was his intention to rid himself of the dead-give-away of his shine even if it meant losing his night-vision; something that had to have become a major factor in every aspect of his life. That could only mean that he was determined to end his criminal career. The second and much more important one to her, since it went against his basic personality, was that he was making a conscious effort to relate to both Jeeter and Ben in a positive manner. While he demanded the position of leader, not unreasonable given the abilities and personalities involved, he was functioning as a part of a group. More than that, he seemed to have taken on a strong protective attitude toward Ben.  
  
How he was relating to her? She was having trouble with that. Obviously, he was playing the necessary games to get her willingly into his bed. But she kept feeling that there was more; that he was interested in learning more about her than what was necessary for that. His manipulating her into not only assuming the command slot but setting in motion the plans to keep the ships for herself was part of this. True it had been nothing but a gentle push in the direction that she wanted to go. But, he had read her need for it, had taken action to see that she acted on that need and had done it with a cunning and deft touch. There was also that odd feeling of being tested. Since then, there seemed to be an intensity about the way he studied her actions, reactions, decisions, motives; she had felt that he was analyzing her as 'professionally' as she was analyzing him.  
  
This was so improbable that it made her doubt herself. After all, with the emotional effect he was having on her, she wasn't in the best condition to be trusting her intuitions no matter how trustworthy they had proved in the past. All of this could be nothing more than her own wishful thinking. In fact, it was highly probably that it was exactly that.  
  
While she had studied the histories, profiles and psychological patterns of every one of his type that she could get her hands on, he was the first she had actually met face to face. ("and body to body" - Damn, her super-ego could be so witty at times, usually the wrong times.) It was no wonder that she found him completely fascinating. As if this wasn't problem enough for her to deal with, in what little she knew of his history and abilities and her own observations of his personality, if those could be trusted, he resembled the only living person that she had ever developed a fixation for. Even the pseudonym that he had chosen was a constant reminder. Why couldn't he have used Enigma or Puzzle or ... or any thing but Riddle ...... anything that didn't sound like Riddick.  
  
Oh, what a fantastic mind he had; what marvelous games he had played with all of the supposed professionals that they had thrown at him. He was so different from any of the other files that she had worked on. His raw intelligence and the patterns in which his mind worked fascinated her. She had wanted nothing in her life more than she had wanted to be sitting on the other side of the partition from him testing her own mind against his. But she had never met him, could never meet him. He was dead. Since it was doubtful that Riddick himself could have lived up to her fantasies about him, it was impossible that Riddle could carry the reincarnation of those fantasies.  
  
She steeled herself against making such a novice mistake as letting her own psychological hang-ups influence her judgement and turned her attention to her image in the full length mirror.  
  
She could hardly believe that the woman in the mirror was her. She walked forward comparing the image to the one she had seen in the saloon mirror. There was the same overt sexuality but the aura was completely different. Instead of soft, vulnerable, inviting; this was hard, powerful, challenging. It was like comparing the feline attributes of a tabby cat to those of a panther. While the design was totally fanciful it had a quality of functionality that spoke of serious purpose underneath the playfulness. The cut of the long vest and the slightly lowered waistline of the trousers was extremely flattering to her not perfect figure, giving her a leaner, svelte look by lengthening her shorter torso without taking anything away from her long legs. The whole ensemble was comfortable to wear and allowed a wide range of motion without binding. The uniform worked.  
  
The next step was her weapons. The first were the earrings. Then, she placed the dagger and stunner in her boots, buckled on her waist belt and attached and buckled the sword rig. The touch of cold metal against her back reminded her of the request she had made to Ben to see if something in her shiv collection would fit the pocket that Riddle had added to the back of her belt. Obviously he had. Interested in which one it might be, she reach back and, after a tentative touch to establish the proper hold, withdrew the weapon from the pocket. It was beautiful and wicked and she didn't even have to look at the engraved area under her fingers to know who had made the original that it copied. Shit! Were the fates totally intent on fucking up her mind?! The shiv that fit the pocket that Riddle had designed was one of Riddick's. It took all of her control to replace the blade in the belt pocket rather than throwing it violently across the room.  
  
She began making Tai Chi moves to calm herself. She moved on to her favorite pattern of offensive and defensive moves for hand-to-hand combat. She ended with practicing hand holds and moves to give herself some practice drawing and achieving an attack posture with the dagger and the stunner. Once she achieved a good level of control, she turned her attention back to the business of the uniform.  
  
She added the final touch, her afterthought; an ankle length, extremely full cape with cowl collar. She made a quick turn and watched as it flared beautifully. She drew the cowl over her head, pulling it low over her forehead. She could see perfectly but her face was in deep shadow and almost impossible to see. Perfect. She left it that way and exited onto the bridge.  
  
Jeeter and Ben seemed to be speechless at her appearance. Riddle gave her his twisted grin.  
  
"Now, where do you plan to wear that?"  
  
She couldn't help but pay him back for that smirk. She threw off the cowl.  
  
"I thought that it would be perfect the next time someone leads me down a dark alley. Just a little something to keep me from having to hide behind a dumpster."  
  
While Jeeter rolled his eyes at the memory and Ben looked completely puzzled, Riddle laughed in a full throated rumble.   
  
"Actually, I ordered one for each of us. They're for official trips planet side or to other ships. For now, they're to keep us from seeing each other in uniform until we are all dressed. Now, gentlemen, the lounge is yours."  
  
She crossed to the galley to get her coffee that she had left there when the carts arrived. By the time she had warmed it up, adjusted the sugar level and returned to the bridge, Riddle had disappeared into the lounge, Jeeter was once again exploring the variety of the tailor, oh what a dandy he was turning into, and Ben was working seriously on the new identity packets that Jeeter and Riddle had given him. She was able to relax. She used the time to create the uniform displays that she would need when, if, she was successful in persuading the others to join the crew.  
  
Then Riddle returned. As Jeeter took his turn in the lounge, Riddle seated himself on the deck at the side of her chair and, facing her, leaned back against the supports of her control console. But the expected confrontation didn't come. Instead, he briefly turned aside the cape to show the black satin shirt he was wearing.  
  
"Did you back down on your part of this, too? Is that what the capes are about?"  
  
Jenna was definitely not in a mood to give him straight answers.  
  
"Why? Would that disappoint you?"  
  
"Would you like it, if it did?"  
  
Ok. Give him something to think about but change the direction.  
  
"That would depend on why it disappointed you. But, I didn't back down, as you put it, on mine. The only reason that I did with you and Jeeter was I thought the other would be a bit too distracting, threatening. I want the group open to persuasion not immediately on the defensive. If Galactic hadn't played with such a heavy hand we wouldn't be in this situation. Which brings up another question."  
  
She raised her voice to call across the bridge.  
  
"Ben, why did Mr. Sen decide it was necessary to escape immediately instead of waiting until Syrus and you had finished with the ID work? If we hit a Patrol check there could be problems."  
  
"Well, I've got Jeeter's finished. The erasure was more detailed than the rest of us, but then whose wouldn't be. I can't do much more with First's until I get a name, eye color and a past history. We had to scat because Galactic is sending in their keeper squad in the morning. That oh-seven-hundred that Mr. Sen gave you is a close-to-it. That's when they're scheduled to arrive but the detonator is wired to their entry. So is the back-at-you hack signal. It transmits ten seconds before the boom. We were already packed up when you called in. Mr. Sen said that, if things didn't work out with your meeting, 'we will have to trust that Jenna's work with the simulator will be sufficient'. That would have been a real fuser for you, I bet."  
  
Jenna wasn't surprised by Ben's comment about Jeeter's history being detailed. She had already realized that he had been lying when he claimed not to be documented anywhere. She was considering how she was going to deal with this when Riddle spoke.  
  
"Back-at-you hack?"  
  
"Oh, yeah! It was Jen's idea. We all listed the people, businesses and institutions that we hate. I set up hacks that the signal will activate that will blitz their systems, totally or partially, your choice. Fun, fun, fun and makes us look like we were off the scale far enough to turn the Institute and ourselves into molted slag. Galactic's corporate and branch systems were top of everybody's list. And were they easy. Even their 'secret', 'hack proof' backups were nothing special. Just couldn't imagine anyone having the guts to take them on, I guess. They're going to get the full treatment. Even their hardware is going to self-destruct.  
  
"One of Jen's was the hardest to rig, very selective, but I did it. Every document in every prison data base that has a psychiatric, psychology or sociology department tag is going to disappear, poof. I told you that they had fused her out."  
  
Oh, well. Jenna had suspected that Ben had talked too much about her. At least it was out in the open now. Riddle was smirking again.  
  
"Doesn't sound like that's a smart thing to do."  
  
She shrugged.  
  
"It wouldn't be polite to leave without saying good-bye, would it?"  
  
Riddle's face twisted into a snarl. My God, what had she said to cause that? For the first time since she had met him, she was afraid of him. Then, just as suddenly as his anger and hate had appeared, it was gone; his emotions under control. His smile wasn't much better than the snarl but it seemed to show approval.  
  
"No. It wouldn't be. Now, tell me why you want to have night vision?"  
  
The flurry of change in him had completely off-balanced Jenna. She blurted out the truth.  
  
"Because that's the only place where I feel alive." Then she covered the depth of that confession. "But then, I'm not facing the sacrifices that you did. Syrus is really excited at the prospect of having the opinion of his improved process from someone who has actually, now how did he put it, 'field tested' the original process. All of his subjects were volunteers that had not had any previous optical surgery of any kind."  
  
She could see that she had diverted his attention. His next question confirmed this. It also demonstrated how shallow Riddle's trust of others went.  
  
"Yeah, he's hot to do it, all right. That's why he wants me to give everyone the recovery shots, so he can set up for it. Want's to do both of us at the same time, both of us blind at the same time, which isn't happening. We'll take turns and use the lounge and bunk room to hole up here on the bridge until both of us are recovered. That way we can con and watch each other's back at the same time. You call it. Who goes first?"  
  
Jenna fought the emotional effect that this tacit admission of trust and partnership had on her. After all, it wasn't as if he had much choice. It came down to her or Jeeter and she certainly had the more obvious need to protect Riddle. She tried for a moment to make the decision he had asked of her. She couldn't. There was too much conflict between her needs and what Riddle's needs might be.  
  
"No. The choice is yours. You have suffered the loss of normal sight for a very long time. While this may suggest that you would want to be first, you have no history with Syrus to give you any confidence in his expertise and may wish to observe my surgery and the results of it before you take the risk."  
  
"So, eye drops freak you but you're willing to be first just to make me feel better about it?"  
  
Jenna couldn't keep from laughing. He was so right about her ambivalent feelings toward the surgery.  
  
"Since you mentioned my cowardice; and, yes, it is just that; I have a favor to ask of you that may bother you more that going first would me. Syrus is an excellent physician technically but he has a horrible bed-side manner. Do you think that you could find the patience to hold my hand until I'm unconscious and then talk me through the adjustment period after the surgery? It shouldn't effect your choice of going first or second. You can do equally well using either the experience you have already or that you will have with the new process."  
  
Riddle stood up rather quickly. As he stood looking down at her, she could feel an almost angry determination in him.  
  
"No I can't. I'll go first. You don't go for the shine unless it's what he says it is."  
  
He walked away and into the galley before she could make any reply. Well, well, well. Professionally, she found his reaction interesting. Personally, she found it irritating. His being that protective was certainly flattering and she would welcome his experienced opinion but she rebelled at his assumption that he had the right to make such a decision for her. Only the fact that he was totally correct in his opinion that both pilots shouldn't be disabled at the same time kept her from becoming stubbornly determined to have her surgery before he was conscious again after his.  
  
When Riddle returned to the bridge he went straight to the pilot slot and began working with the nav computer. He was obviously avoiding any further conversation. Jenna realized that her reference to his experience during his original shine surgery had triggered this. She decided that, if the memories of it were bad enough to elicit that intense an emotional reaction from someone as hardened as he was, she didn't want to delve into them further any more than he did.  
  
Jeeter returned and Ben took his turn in the lounge. The only matter that required her attention was a request from Jeeter to replace the buckle on his waist belt with his razor buckle. Jenna allowed this with the stipulation that he would make a new one for himself and matching ones for her and Riddle with the sunburst and the proper slot insignia as the decorative pattern and matching small buckles, without razors, to replace those on the weapon rigs. She also requested a matching buckle, without razor, for Ben's belt. He agreed with enthusiasm and she opened the equipment and materials files of Cameron's metallurgy lab for him. His total attention focused on them and he became just as incommunicado as Riddle until Ben's return signaled the time had come for the unveiling. Jenna could tell by Ben's smile that he was pleased with the change in his shirt.  
  
Though Jenna was fairly certain that she had prepared well to prevent any serious conflict in the meeting with the group, the anticipation had put her on a slight adrenalin high. She felt playful. She keyed the bridge security camera to display onto the main viewer and lined the four of them up as they had been in the tailor display.  
  
"Well, gentlemen, the time has come to see if we look as good as the tailor said we would."  
  
She dropped her cape and the others followed her motion almost simultaneously.  
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Riddick felt like a coward as he slid into the pilot slot and pretended to concentrate on the nav display. But he needed time to think. This whole thing was beginning to blow up in his face. Four years ago there had been a woman, a kid, a merc, a holy man, a bunch of other people and monsters. Somehow the woman had made him the one responsible for saving all of them from those monsters and had ended up dying to save him. All he had been trying to do ever since was to give some kind of meaning to that death by doing what she had asked him to do; rejoin the human race, end his criminal behavior and try to live straight.  
  
This contract was supposed to be the beginning of that pay-back. Instead, he was back where he had started: a woman, a kid, a holy man (that thought threw him for a moment but he had to admit that Mr. Sen gave him the same feeling that Iman did), a bunch of other people and monsters. The only thing missing was the merc. But the monsters weren't the kind he could gut with his shiv and the woman wasn't Carolyn.  
  
Carolyn he had understood; simple basic survival vs. simple conscience. There was nothing simple about Jenna. Jenna ... so cold that she could program those closest to her for suicide; could figure out a way to torture a bleeder in a quick minute; and could shove a cylinder of death up a man's nose ...... yet, so warm that she saw something in Jeeter that no one else had and offered him a new life instead of a beating; felt guilty because she hadn't changed clothing and had upset Ben; and, even though she was core scared, wouldn't choose the second slot for the surgery as she wanted because she thought his need was greater than hers.  
  
On top of all that, she had an uncanny talent for saying things or doing things that hit the sore spots inside of him; that brought back memories, not only from four years ago but from every part of his life, that he wanted to stay buried. When that happened it was as if the way her mind worked was too close to the way his did; the way she saw the world outside that mind, too much the way he saw it. Even her life was paralleling his. She had died on Derius 4, lifted into space determined to be something she had not been before and had made sure that she took what revenge against her monsters that she could as she left.  
  
He couldn't help but see the humor in the fact that, if the hack worked as Ben had described, she had probably done a better job of that revenge than he had. Oh, The Company wouldn't fall but, fuck, they were going to bleed; bleed trillions of credits each day until they got their wounds bandaged. As for the yoyos, she had given them eighteen hour days with migraines and ulcers. He was sure that the cons would see to that. Playing with yoyos was one of their favorite diversion. Oddly enough, even the guards thought it was fun. ..... Oh, shit! The guards' files would be ripped the same as the cons'. Their files would have to be repaired before they could receive any raises or promotions, time out of the facility or transfers. As Ben said: fun, fun, fun.  
  
But Jenna's monsters could follow her off planet, most certainly would if they got the smallest hint that she and the others were still alive. That's where he came in. She had made it very clear that she need him to teach her, and probably the others, how to survive and defend themselves in an alien place; because the world outside of their Institute was just as alien to them as that planet had been to the others, just as much the lair of their monsters. Once again he was fucking responsible.  
  
At this low point of his thoughts, he glanced at the nav display. He discovered that he had been unconsciously plotting the best jump from their present location to New Mecca. He had even given it an execute code name and locked it into the memory. He comforted himself with the fact that at least he understood that reaction. The focus of his thoughts couldn't have failed to bring thoughts of Jack and Iman along with the others.  
  
They had already been on his mind anyway because the last few messages he had received in the safe drop he had arranged hadn't sounded right. There hadn't been anything that he could put his finger on but his gut told him that Iman was worried about something. The holy man had actually wished him God's blessing for the end of his pilgrimage. This was as close as Iman could have gotten to telling him to get his ass in gear and get back to them. He had tried to believe that it was just the holy man's disapproval of the way he was financing his new beginning, the only way he had to do it, but there was still that uneasy feeling that it was more than that.  
  
He had just begun speculating on what Jenna's reaction might be to a request for a detour in her planned escape route when Ben returned to the bridge. At Jenna's order to form up behind her, he quickly locked down the nav program without taking the time to remove his plot to New Mecca and took his place while doing his best to seem interested so as not to ruin Jenna's fun.  
  
As their images appeared on the viewer, he was more interested in the reactions of the others than in the display. At least he was until his eyes dropped from Jenna's radiant face to the rest of her. That tailor machine might have all the bells and whistles but it hadn't done justice to the reality. But there was more than just her physical appearance. As she took in the power staged image of herself as leader, flanked by the others, she became that leader. Her aura rippled and surged with strength, pride and a sexuality that put a tight knot in his throat. He was struggling for words to describe it when Ben made his own appraisal. It was a righteous one.  
  
"Hot damn! Stand and deliver. Captain Jen and her bad-asses have arrived."  
  
Riddick was surprised to find that his bad mood had made a complete turn-around as he watched Ben dash to the com slot and open the ship's intercom.  
  
"Now hear this. Now hear this. There will be a meeting of all crew and passengers in the library, immediately. All crew and passengers will gather in the library, immediately. Ca...."  
  
Jenna had followed him and now clamped her hand over his mouth and switched off the intercom.  
  
"Save the introductions until the meeting, Ben. Now, allow access to the tailor from the library and then get the legal packets and the contract forms for the Hole."  
  
Riddick watched as Jenna crossed to the weapons slot and began punching keys on an auxiliary board whose function he had not figured out during his initial scan of the bridge. A diagram of the ship appeared on the main viewer with nine position locaters blinking on it. With this visual aid, Riddick began to appreciate the design of the ship to a much greater level.  
  
The image of it, as they had approached in the BC, was that of a standard monster freighter; the bridge, with its crew quarters and galley, and engines, with their accompanying support and maintenance area, and the connecting gangway on the lowest level with a rack of pods, nine wide and four high, stretching in between. The first clue that it was not standard was the BC's bay being camouflaged to appear as four separate pods. Most freighters carried their auxiliary vehicles in obvious hangers under the bridge area. The Hole only had a standard coupling hatch in the connecting gangway. He had gotten some idea of how non-standard it was during his trip to the tailor and weapons pod and to Jenna's apartment pod. Now, from the diagram, he could see the full extent of it.  
  
What looked like a standard pod rack was a two level, five pod wide core, camouflaged and shielded from attack by standard pods on all six sides. Most of these were labeled as supplies for settlement but a good number were excellently placed weapons ports. He also knew, from his trip inside that the fourth level would stand up to a Patrol inspection without giving away the secret of this core. The Hole was a fortress in space. A fortress with room for guests. There were twenty-four apartments.  
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--------PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS  
E-------PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS  
N-------PODS--PODS____LABS___________LIVING AREAS_______PODS--PODS--LOUNGE  
G-------PODS--PODS____LABS___________LIVING AREAS_______PODS--PODS  
I-------PODS--PODS____LABS____LIVING AREAS___AUX BRIDGE_PODS--PODS---BRIDGE  
N-------PODS--PODS____LABS___________LIVING AREAS_______-----BAY------  
E-------PODS--PODS____LABS___________LIVING AREAS_______-----BAY--------GALLEY  
S-------PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS  
--------PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS--PODS  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
  
LEVEL 1 - ALL STANDARD PODS  
LEVEL 2 - PODS (LABS AND APPARTMENTS) PODS  
LEVEL 3 - PODS (LABS AND COMMON AREAS, AUXILIARY BRIDGE) PODS  
LEVEL 4 - ENGINES, STANDARD PODS, GANGWAY,(BAY) , BIDGE  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
_______________________________________________________________________________________  
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Jenna hit a function key and a name appeared with each blip except two. The two unlabeled blips were on the bridge of the diagram. Jenna checked his and Jeeter's locations and her fingers flew across the keyboard again. 'First' and 'Second' appeared beside the correct locaters and the blips labeled 'Jenna' and 'Ben' were re-labeled 'Captain' and 'Com Op', respectively.  
  
The auxiliary board belonged an internal security system the likes of which Riddick had never seen before. The only ones he knew of that could distinguish identities worked with sensors, either implanted or worn and, as far as he knew, he and Jeeter hadn't been tagged. His curiosity about that was followed quickly by the question of what kind of nasty defenses might be wired into it. The ability to dispose of an intruder without having to leave the bridge was an interesting idea. He looked up to find Jenna staring at him. Her amused smile told him she knew exactly what he had been thinking.   
  
"Yes, there are some surprises included in its programming. As soon as your eyes are ready for it, I'll open the ship's manuals and you can get to know the Hole. She's really amazing. But then what would you expect? All her fathers are geniuses."  
  
Ben, his hands full of the documents for the meeting, walked over to Jenna and laid his head against her shoulder.  
  
"Yeah, but you're her mother. You're the mixer, the one who could put all our pieces together and make it work."  
  
Jenna ruffled Ben's hair. If Riddick hadn't already figured out the relationship between the two, a blind man couldn't have missed it now. Then, Jenna gently stepped away from Ben.  
  
"I had a great deal of help from everyone. Speaking of whom, Mr. Sen and Syrus are already in the library and Jeff, Sasha and David are together on the apartment level just entering the elevator. I don't want the whole group together too long before we arrive. Retrieve your capes and follow me."  
  
Riddick was doubtful about the capes until Jenna showed them the secret. She fastened the waist level, front closure before securing the cape around her neck. This caused the cape to fall back and down behind her rather than wrapping around her body. As she walked forward and then turned, it flared and swirled but stayed where it belonged.  
  
This whole thing with the uniforms had been nothing but a time filler for Riddick. Only the game with Jenna had really interested him. Now, however, as he moved down the gangway behind her, the cape swaying and billowing to the rhythm of his movements, he caught himself making adjustments in his posture and stride to increase the effect. The damn thing had him walking tall, proud and hungry like some I-own-the-galaxy punk. Fuck! He hadn't been that stupid since he was twelve years old.  
  
As he consciously toned down his reaction to the cape, he decided that he just might have totally underestimated the value of what the other's had been up to with this; most particularity Jenna. She hadn't put her effort into it only to effect the rest of the group. She had been just as intent on effecting Ben, Jeeter and him. The only thing that she hadn't done was whisper 'Gotcha' in their ears.  
  
His first reaction was that he didn't like being manipulated one little bit. His second was wry amusement that she had been able to do it. His third was that it was his own fault because he hadn't figured out a very important thing to know about Jenna. But he knew it now. No matter how insignificant something might seem, if Jenna involved herself in it, either it wasn't insignificant or, by the time she got through with it, it wouldn't be anymore.  
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(You guys aren't going to beleive how hard it was to get those ship diagrams to look right after they were up loaded. This document manager just doesn't relate to my word processing program. Anyway, I hope they were worth the effort.) 


	14. Chapter 14 Everyone Has Their Limit

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 14 - EVERYONE HAS THEIR LIMIT  
  
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Jeeter's mind was full ah all kinds ah ideas as he followed Lady and Barrol down the gangway. This was turning into about the best move he'd ever made. Gonna learn shiv work from Barrol and maybe some really good moves from Mr. Sen. That metal shop ah Pretty Boy's was a dream. The guy knew his stuff about that. Might be something to learn there, too, if they didn't end up throwing the crud outa an airlock. Then there was that night vision. But he'd wait to see how Lady and Barrol got on with it. He'd heard what Barrol said about colors and displays. Lady said this was different but better make sure. Working with displays was important. He wasn't in Ben's class but he could make the system work for him when he needed to.  
  
'Sides, Jeeter really liked color. He ran his hand over his gold vest and the insignia on it. He'd ah put a lot more ah it into the uniforms if it hada been his choice. But seeing it all come together, he had to admit that Lady knew what she was doing. And man-oh-man, these capes were the top ah the pile. Even had the big guy strutting until he caught himself.  
  
Through the gangway, into the hidden elevator and out on the third level. Then Barrol telling 'em how to go into the library. Ben first, and step two slots to the left just inside. Then Jeeter and left beside Ben. Barrol next, and going right. Finally Lady, right down the middle without stopping as they formed up behind her. Barrol might not know squat about clothes but he sure knew how to stage an attack, even a 'nice' one.  
  
It worked like a charm. All of 'em were looking in the right direction and worried when Lady walked in, looking just as bad as she could be, and handed 'em a glad-to-see-you smile. They latched onto it like it was a life line. Well, maybe Mr. Sen and Syrus weren't more that a little uneasy but the other three made up for it. Lady took the advantage and got right down to business. She sat at the end ah the long narrow library table and signaled the kid to pass out the legal bullshit. Jeeter followed Barrol's lead and they went at-ease standing on either side ah her. As soon as eacha the five had their copies, Lady waved 'em toward the table.  
  
"Please, sit. This business will go better if we are all comfortable."  
  
They sat. Ben stayed standing beside Jeeter, doing his best to mimic the at-ease but way to excited to make it work.  
  
"I understand that there is some question as to the necessity of my shouldering the responsibility of Captain of this ship. The documents that Ben has given you explain not only the requirements for captaincy but also the responsibilities that it carries and the lengths a captain is allowed in order to see that his ability to fulfill those responsibilities is not interfered with. It also details the legal repercussions, punishment, for a captain convicted of any illegal uses of his ship. An example: knowingly smuggling wanted persons or prohibited weapons. Once all of you are aware of this information we can continue."  
  
Lady relaxed back in her chair. Syrus started reading. So did David. Mr. Sen scanned the stuff like somebody who knew what should be there and was just checking to see that it was. The chit, Sasha, was too busy trying to eye flirt with Barrol to be interested in paper work. Cameron was trying to read but his concentration was shit 'cause Sasha's flirting was irritating the hell outa him. Now, that was interesting. The chit was David's wife but Cameron was the one getting pissed.  
  
Jeeter used the time to take a better look at David. Ben had said that the guy had been gray haired since he was twenty, just part of his DNA, and was only maybe thirty-five or six. He looked a lot older to Jeeter, older and just about as sick as a guy could be and still be standing. Jeeter tried to see what Lady coulda seen in the guy. When he was standing, Jeeter had seen that he was taller than Lady, without those platforms, but not as tall as Barrol, maybe halfway between. His face woulda been kinda good looking if it wasn't thin and all hollow like. He had a medium build, ok but nothing special, and he was soft. Had good hands.  
  
A whore had told Jeeter that good hands were a real turn on. She'd liked his enough to give him a freebie once in a while. Truth was, any place he landed he never had to pay for it more than a few times before the word got around and there was always one ah the girls in a generous mood for him. Hell, he knew they were treating him like a pet puppy, but what's to complain about. Whores had been kinder and sweeter to him than any 'honest' woman had ever been; 'cept his mother ..... and now Lady. The few times he had killed, other than that one stupid battle he got shoved into before he AWOLed, it had been some scum that had hurt one ah his sweet ladies. Did the first one when he was just fifteen and right outa boot.  
  
He came outa his remembering to find David looking at him. Seeing that Jeeter had caught him at it, he ducked his face. But Jeeter had a good enough look to know what had drawn Lady to him. The eyes were blue but they had that open, kinda helpless look like a deer's. Shit! Lady mighta loved him but she sure as hell couldn'ta been in love with him. Jeeter decided that David hadn't been anything more to Lady than another take-care-ah like Ben. The fool shoulda stayed with her 'steada getting himself tied up with the chit. But better for Lady that he didn't.  
  
Jeeter glanced back around the group. Mr. Sen looked like he was meditating. Syrus was looking patiently bored. Sasha was looking impatiently bored 'cause Barrol was ignoring her. David was looking miserable, like he just wanted the whole thing over. Cameron, the only one still reading, was turning a little green around the edges. Jeeter figured he'd got to those 'repercussions'. Found out that captains were the ones that got hung by the neck until they were dead, dead, dead.  
  
And that was just in the civilized parts ah the galaxy. In the uncivilized parts they got shoved outa the airlock ah their own ship without a pressure suit. In the really barbaric parts it was with a suit and an air umbilical and they weren't cut loose until they were dead, dead, dead. The real pervs in the squad had talked about how much fun it was to leave the suit mike open and listen to 'em scream and beg or pray. Said all of 'em went crazy before the end.  
  
Jeeter watched as Cameron laid down the papers. He looked worse than David. The chit whispered something to him. When he didn't answer, she hissed in his ear again and he hissed right back at her and put the page that had turned him green under her nose. The rebellion was over for him. The chit had other ideas. If pretty boy wasn't gonna be captain, she'd see what other trouble she could make. She aimed her next comments at the rest ah the group. The cutesy little girl voice that Jeeter had liked came out all razor blades and broken glass.  
  
"So she's captain! Big deal! That doesn't give her any right to tell the rest of us what to do. And those muscle heads of hers don't belong here. This is a group meeting."  
  
Jeeter decided that he didn't want his dick anywhere near the bitch. She needed the kinda lessons that he wasn't into. But, he knew a dozen slave markets where he could trade her off for something sweet and grateful, maybe two somethings. Plenty of buyers in those places who weren't as soft-hearted as he was. 'Course he was pretty sure that Lady wouldn't go for that but it was fun to think about.  
  
There was a long silence. Lady stayed lounged back and relaxed, just waiting to see how the others jumped. It was Syrus that finally broke it. Jeeter got a whole new respect for him. The face was lazy and bored but the eyes were sharp, hard. His slow cultured drawl stretched the words, separating the syllables, but they still sounded crisp and clear. He spoke in a rhythm like a weaving cobra getting ready to strike and his soft tone dripped with nasty.  
  
"You really should take the time to learn to read, Sasha. As captain of this ship, she has exactly that right. Also, if you had any talent for listening, the intercom announcement made it very clear that the Captain called this meeting not the group. Therefore, the First and Second Officers have not only the right but the duty to be here. Now, I suggest that you shut up and let her get on with the business she wishes to discuss with us."  
  
Jeeter expected the chit to blaze back at him. Instead, she cowered away from him until she was almost in Cameron's lap. Syrus smiled almost pleasantly. Lady had sure been right about not judging him by G. Syrus was one cold mother fucker. Jeeter checked the rest ah the group. A look of satisfaction blinked across David's face and was gone so fast that Jeeter almost missed it. Shit, why didn't he just slap the bitch down himself. Cameron looked like he wanted to do something but didn't have the guts to. Mr. Sen was being very oriental, kinda above it all. But, after a little more silence, he was the one to get things rolling.  
  
"I to am most interested in the Captain's reasons for this meeting." He turned toward Lady. "Please accept my apology, Captain, for this little family disagreement. I am sure that we all shall be most receptive if you will honor us by continuing with any other matters you wish to address."  
  
Now, Lady sat up and leaned forward, her elbows on the table. She looked serious like a captain was suppose to.  
  
"There are only two categories of people on board a ship: passengers and crew. To be blunt, neither this ship nor our group have any need of passengers. The group has too much to learn if we are to survive and this ship needs to be properly manned. I will deal with the easiest assignments first. Syrus, are you willing to serve as Ship's Doctor? David, as Power Engineer? Jeff, as Systems Engineer?"  
  
They all nodded. Lady nodded in return and got on with it.  
  
"Mr. Sen, Sasha, as part of the crew, your titles would be Ship's Chaplain and Environment Enhancement Officer, respectively. These may sound like make-work but you have my assurance that they are not. We are going to be living in these close quarters, isolated, with only each other for company for a lengthy period. There are two things necessary for all of us to survive this. The first is someone to mediate interpersonal conflicts; yours, Mr. Sen. The other is someone to create pleasant group social interaction and diversion; you, Sasha.   
  
"But both of you will have much more important duties related to the group's ability to adjust to the new life we are taking on. While First and Second are here to teach us the necessary arts to physically defend ourselves, their second and more important function is to begin our education in observing and adapting to any culture and social strata that we might encounter. The rule is: 'Stand out and you become a target; blend in to survive.' It is this function that the two of you will work together to enhance.  
  
"As long as the ship is under normal running conditions, there will be one group meal, daily; a Saturday party-party; and a Sunday formal dinner. Attendance for all of these will be mandatory. What you choose to do with the daily meals would be up to you. The party and the formal dinner must be lessons in a different culture each week but of two different social strata of that culture. The theme culture and both strata should be announced each Monday and you would be responsible for judging how well the rest of us did our research and adapted our dress and behavior to that culture.  
  
"This will require a great deal of effort in research and preparation but the lessons it will teach us are vital to the group's survival. I ask you the same question I asked the others. Are you willing to take these crew positions?"  
  
Jeeter had been watching Sasha. Mr. Sen was no question. She was. But Lady played  
  
her all the way. Damn, she started drooling for it with the party and the formal dinner. The judging what the others did part was the kill. But pairing her up with Mr. Sen? That one he was gonna have to think about. That one had layers and layers.  
  
Lady put the titles on the crew contracts and signed 'em. Ben passed 'em out. Everybody signed and Ben picked 'em up again. Then Lady got that beautiful playful look on her face.  
  
"Now we get to the fun part. Uniforms."  
  
As Lady flipped up a section ah the table in front ah her that turned into a display and keyboard, Syrus smarted off.  
  
"Oh, dear. I was afraid that was coming."  
  
"Are you volunteering to be first, Syrus?"  
  
He flashed her a wicked leer. Lady flashed back a sneer. But all Barrol saw was the leer and he didn't like it. Shit, Syrus had seen Barrol's jaw tighten, too, and was looking like it was funny.  
  
"Oh no, I'm perfectly content to wait your pleasure, my Captain."  
  
Sheeze, Syrus was baiting Barrol on purpose. This wasn't gonna be pretty.  
  
"That's going to be a long wait, Syrus. My pleasure is already spoken for."  
  
Way to go, Lady. She'd dropped all of 'em in their tracks. Even Barrol's jaw had gone slack and Mr. Sen's eyes had opened wide. Syrus' amusement turned a bit respectful.  
  
"I believe Mr. Sen's uniform should be first."  
  
A huge display lit up on the bulkhead to the left of the table and there was two Mr. Sens on it. Both in some kinda square sleeved robe with a wide sash around the waist. One was all black and the other was a really mellow yellow with a black sash. The little guy looked real good dressed that way. There was an inset ah his insignia, too, with a circle divided by a double curve so it looked like two tear drops, head to tail; or maybe little squiggly creatures 'cause it looked like they had eyes. Must be some kinda religious thing since Lady said he was the Chaplain. It'd sure be a nice design to use for the locks on a razor buckle.  
  
"I thought something like this might be appropriate for you as Chaplain. The black is in satin, a dress uniform; the topaz, in syntho-cotton for a comfortable duty uniform. May I order them up for you or would you prefer a standard ship's uniform?"  
  
Mr. Sen gave her one ah those half bows.  
  
"I find the robe, the color and the insignia quite excellent. Thank you, Captain."  
  
Lady hit a function key. Musta had the order keyed and waiting. Then another key and all four ah the others appeared on the screen. Insets ah insignia and the same black vests, trousers, boots and waist belts as the bridge crew but with the laced shirts. Next difference, each one had a different colored shirt: Syrus, deep sapphire; Cameron, emerald; Sasha, ruby; David, amethyst. Now, that was a surprise, amethyst for a guy, but it looked good with his silvered hair. In fact, all of 'em looked real good in the colors Lady picked. Sasha looked at little too good. Lady had left the laces real open and given her a black breast band and she done something with the shirt and vest. They were slimmed in below the band kinda fitted to Sasha's mid-drift, so the laces were nice and tight across the opening all the way up. Made the chit's rack look even better than it already did. The trousers were also trimmer, not tight like Lady's but not as bulky as the men's. Looked real fine and the chit knew it. She wasn't about to argue.  
  
"Your dress uniforms will be the same but satin and will have the matching black cape. Does anyone wish to comment?"  
  
Damned if Pretty Boy hadn't got some ah his bluff back.  
  
"Why don't we have gold vests?"  
  
At least the twit had enough sense not to ask about Lady's long vest.  
  
"Gold vests are for the people who ride that perfect target sticking out in front called a bridge. I have a nav slot open if you would like to study for it, Jeff. In fact, anyone who would be willing to make the effort to qualify for that or as an auxiliary for any bridge position would be an asset. If we haven't been as clever as we hope and we end up in a fire-fight with Galactic, the Patrol or the Forces, we will suffer losses. I would like to see everyone in gold vests. You would, of course, retain the shirt color designating your primary duty slot. Any other comments?"  
  
Pretty Boy shook his head 'no' with a nervous twitch. Lady looked around at the rest. Jeeter thought it was done until Syrus raised a finger and an eyebrow. Damn he sure liked playing games.  
  
"I am quite satisfied with the uniform but I have another question. Those interesting pieces of hardware that you, First and Second are wearing but Ben isn't, are they a matter of privilege, also?"  
  
Shit, that was the first time Jeeter had ever seen somebody who could look like they were thinking about kissing someone and sneer at the same time outside of a vid. Oh, he'd seen guys try to act like those vid villains. They always looked stupid. Syrus looked like the real thing that the vid actors were trying to look like. Lady seem to be used to it. She punched the order function key and then answered him.  
  
"No. It's a matter of proficiency. Anyone who makes the effort to become proficient with any blade they choose can carry it."  
  
Suddenly Lady's dagger was in her hand. She displayed it between her hands, hilt and point against her palms. Then it was gone again.  
  
"But, the concealed weapon is much the more dangerous. All of you will find both dagger and stunner sheaths in your boots. They will be filled when you prove you can use them. Any other comments? ....... Good. Then, I suggest that you prepare for hyper. Since it has been such a long night for all of us, anyone who wishes to sleep it out, instead of being given a recovery shot, has permission to do so. Please inform Syrus of your choice. Syrus, you will com a list to the bridge. And Syrus, please refill this for me."  
  
She made a show ah removing that killer earring, walking over and handing it to Syrus. This got her a pair ah raised eyebrows that she ignored. Lady sure had Syrus' number. That one was gonna twist his tail until he could get her to tell him all about it. She checked the chrono on the table display and then shut it down.  
  
"You have thirty minutes before we jump."  
  
As Lady led them out ah the library, Jeeter had a question he really wanted to ask her. When they hit the elevator, Barrol asked it for him.  
  
"Is Syrus for real?"  
  
Jeeter expected Lady to smile, make some sorta joke. 'Stead, she got serious, serious.  
  
"Yes, he is. He's suave, cultured, sensuous, very intelligent and he can be a totally sadistic monster when he chooses to be. Be very careful during weapons practice because he will draw blood if you give him the chance and he is already proficient in one kind of blade. He is quite probably the only surgeon in the inner cluster who is just as talented with an actual scalpel as he is with a laser and he prefers the scalpel. That may be a valuable asset to an out-world settlement but in the inner cluster it's a sign of a pathological personality. Of course, so is killing a man with a poison earring and pirating a ship. We all have our little quirks. I would prefer that you didn't kill Syrus for his, however much he may deserve it."  
  
Ok. Lady liked Syrus, monster and all. But that made sense, didn't it. She liked Barrol.  
  
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The meeting had gone much better than she had expected it would. She never doubted that she would be able to accomplish her basic goal but she had not expected to be so successful with the rest of it.  
  
Ben's worry that Mr. Sen or Syrus would side with Jeff hadn't been a valid one. Mr. Sen had made his position perfectly clear in the message he had sent via Riddle. And Syrus ......... The only decision that Jeff could make that Syrus would agree with would be to die, painfully. No, the problem wasn't how to make certain that a vote would go her way; it was to see that it never came to a vote. A vote would solidify the lines of division in the group. Just the opposite needed to happen. The lines needed to be increasingly blurred until they either disappeared completely or at least reached a level of mutual tolerance.  
  
While the regulations that Riddle had cited would stop the vote that wouldn't stop the rebellion. Enforced authority just wouldn't work with this group in this situation. Jeff and David, the only sheep in the lot, would still need to be given logical arguments to justify their cooperation. The legalities would do for David but Jeff needed added justification since he would be backing down from his challenge position. Detailing the responsibilities and consequences had given him that.  
  
Mr. Sen, Syrus and Sasha were all predators. Within limits, Mr. Sen and Syrus would willingly accept her authority because they didn't want to be bothered with the responsibilities of leadership themselves. The more successful she was at exercising that authority in an acceptable manner the more those limits would ease. Sasha, without a doubt the instigator of this challenge, was the problem.  
  
Since she wanted Jeff to be Captain because she wanted the prestige of being the Captain's woman, the answer was to give her position and prestige in her own right. The trick was to use the one area of expertise in which her low self-esteem allowed her to feel capable; social maven. Jenna had known that this was the solution for Sasha's problems for a long time but the environment of the Institute didn't offer any opportunity to engineer that. The environment of the ship did.  
  
The association with Mr. Sen would not only give legitimacy to her position but would also do a great deal to open up the possibilities of other areas of expertise to her. Political manipulation and social manipulation were sisters under the skin. Also, Mr. Sen was an excellent psychologist in his own right and, while he hated the personal aspect of one-on-one therapy, he would lower himself to it for the purpose of making the association a more pleasant one for himself.  
  
The last thing she had wished to accomplish was to set in motion a unification of the group. They had cooperated admirably in the long process of rebellion against Galactic but that threat was now a distant one and the old animosities and personality conflicts were surfacing. Jenna not only needed to reinforce the fact that the threat was still quite viable but also create daily reminders of that and of the group unity. Bless Ben and Jeeter for their wonderful demand for uniforms. There was nothing like esprit de corps to keep the enemy constantly on the mind and smother individual irritations. Jeeter's colorful 'walk the walk and talk the talk' worked both ways. Though the process was slower, in the long term the facade effected the wearer as deeply as the observer.  
  
But this had to be done carefully. There was no survival necessity for uniforms and their true purpose should remain secret to those not savvy enough to figure it out for themselves if it were to work. Jenna had counted heavily on it being taken as a logical part of becoming ship's crew. Mr. Sen's obviously different dress and the use of each of their favorite and most flattering colors in the shirts had emphasized the individuality that they must have to find the idea of uniforms acceptable; as was the special tailoring for Sasha. Separating the bridge crew with the gold vests and herself, Jeeter and Riddle with the openly carried weapons had been a risk but a necessary one. Allowing the others to acquire those perks for themselves through honest effort was a useful motivational tool for their learning the necessary survival skills and a safe outlet for their naturally competitive natures. The cultural adaptation game served the same functions and was just plain fun at the same time.  
  
What was the old, old truth: rule with an iron hand but only when the velvet glove didn't succeed. Jenna felt that she had managed a decent job of that. Syrus' aid, which she was certain was intentional, had been immeasurably welcome. His playing games with Riddle, had not. But then, Syrus never gave anything without extracting his pleasure in return. The problem was that Syrus had no idea who, what, he was dealing with. Either that or his desire for self-destruction was growing again.  
  
The only reason that he hadn't succeeded in accomplishing this before was that his pathology didn't allow for direct suicide but required that he goad someone else into doing the job for him. However, his ego required that to be someone who could do so no matter what lengths Syrus went to in defending himself. Riddle was quite capable of being that someone. Jenna had to prevent that.  
  
The problem was that her knowledge of Syrus, as of Mr. Sen, was almost totally based on observation. Syrus was not one to deal with irritations by bitching, seeking advice or crying on somebody's shoulder. He took revenge for them. He would comply with any request to participate in profile testing, etc, but wouldn't give valid answers unless Jenna played whatever game he decided on to his satisfaction. Even then she couldn't be sure that he kept his word to respond truthfully. Any questions concerning personal experiences, history, were totally off limits. Consequently, Jenna had few clues to the daemons that drove him and how they might be eliminated.  
  
She had her suspicions, very professionally thought out suspicions, but the opportunity to test them out had never presented itself. Nor was it something that she could find a way to engineer without Syrus knowing exactly what she was doing. All she could do was wait until she had Riddle alone, make him aware of what Syrus' intentions might be and persuade him not to cooperate with them.  
  
And that brought her to the present and to another problem; Jeeter. As she entered the bridge, she ordered Ben to the bunk room and Riddle to give him the sedating shot and signaled Jeeter to accompany her to the galley. Taking a seat at the table, she motioned him to sit opposite her.  
  
"Jeeter, I can understand your not being honest with me in the skimmer but I need to know why you still don't trust me?"  
  
He had a trapped look.  
  
"So Ben ratted me out on my history, huh? Found out that that wasn't all ah it."  
  
"No. Your history doesn't interest me beyond the fact that you understand that, if you aren't honest with it, your new identity will fail. What that history taught you that is of use to me and to this ship does interest me. That is the lack of trust that I am speaking of. It was your own behavior that betrayed you. You know your way around a ship too well. When you entered the bridge of the BC and again here, you scanned them and then focused on the differences from a standard configuration. You took the weapons slot when the com and nav slots were also open. I would have had to be blind to not see that you did so because you knew what it was and wanted to be there. Last, you know how to properly stand at attention and at-ease. After I told you that you would be in the simulator until you qualified for as many bridge positions as you could, I expected you to admit to me those you were already capable of performing. You didn't.  
  
"My Lord, what could you, or anyone for that matter, have done that would cause you to hang any higher than I will if we are caught? Oh, the others would be stuffed into a nice cushy, maximum security research facility. But I'm not in the same category of value that they are. Unless I had the chance to suicide, I would be right up there with you and Barrol; our extended executions providing the nightmare images that would keep the others from ever again making any move to escape. If that doesn't make a good base for trust, what does? Now, how much of the bridge are you already trained to cover?"  
  
Jeeter actually blushed with embarrassment.  
  
"I'm sorry, Lady. I know you ain't been nothing but kind to me but ... but trusting .. that ain't an easy thing. I'd need to see the manuals, do a few test runs, to be really good but I can handle the weapons and security boards ok now. Can com, too, and hack but nothing like Ben can. Can't nav and can't do much on piloting but keep the auto behaving and know when it's time to yell for help. And not hyper. Barrol already checked on that. And ...... and I'll finish that history for Ben."  
  
"Am I interrupting? I need to get Ben's shot from the cooler."  
  
Jenna jumped at the sound of Riddle's voice. Shit! how had he come to stand in the hatch without her noticing? and how long had he been standing there? Well, she'd just have to cover as best she could.  
  
"No. Jeeter and I are just discussing how we will cover the bridge while you and I are off duty with our surgeries. I believe that the best plan would be to take orbit around an outer planet as soon as we come out of hyper and for him and Ben to take the watch. After the surgery, Syrus will keep you sedated for about another six hours and I can sleep, too. Then you and I can take the watch while you adjust to the changes in your sight. We'll repeat the pattern for my surgery and then we can get on with things."  
  
Riddle leaned back against a counter. His voice rumbled with suspicion.  
  
"You said this would be different but that's a little too different. When I got the shine, I had to have a hideout with enough food and water for a week because that's how long I had to keep putting drops in my eyes and changing the bandages before I could even try to see. I don't like the idea of being drugged either. Syrus will just have to do it without that."  
  
Jenna tried to remain calm. She couldn't. Her capacity for calm was all used up. She flamed.  
  
"No he won't! I'm finished coddling your paranoia! The sedation is necessary for the use of the Quizzler Healing Chamber. The healing chamber is necessary for this not to take the week that you just mentioned. I will not have my First Officer off duty for a full week just because he doesn't trust me to watch his back for eight hours! Now take it the way it is or forget it and go out and get another butcher job when your contract is finished!"  
  
Riddle's jaw turned to granite. Jeeter looked as if he was only seconds from crawling under the table. Jenna had an insane urge to slap Riddle's face. Instead, she stood up and headed for the hatch.  
  
"I'll be on the bridge preparing for jump. Somebody get me a damn cup of coffee." 


	15. Chapter 15 Jump Time

First: big hugs and many thanks to everyone who has taken the time to review this. I not only enjoy the attention but have learned a great deal from your comments.  
  
For those of you who appreciated the diagram of the ship but had further questions about the location of some places mentioned, here is some further explanation. First, getting the bare minimum into the diagram was a struggle so I will do this with description. The library, main dinning hall/party room, main kitchen, music room, vid room, gym/steam room/sauna and any other recreational areas, simulator, weapons pod, tailor and all other shared use facilities are in the communal living area on level 3. Please arrange them in your mind any way you are comfortable with.  
  
The living area on level 2 is dedicated to personal apartments. These are not bed/sitting rooms. Each has a galley/dinning area, living room, den/study/personal library (these are studious types after all), bed room and a very spacious and positively sinfully luxurious bath (basically the kind I would have if my name was listed in the Fortune 500). David and Sasha have two connecting apartments because that was the way Sasha wanted it.  
  
The inside layer of pods surrounding the central core are accessible from the core (through armored hatches) and are used as storage for supplies that will be consumed during the journey to the sanctuary and personal items that each member of the group wanted close at hand but not cluttering up their apartment. All outer layers of pods are supplies for settlement (plus some weapons pods) and designed as protection for the core should there be an attack on the ship. Because of this there is no access to them from the core. However, if necessary, they can be detached and brought into the bay using the Butch Cassidy.   
  
The lab area is divided into five sections: four two story sections for the hard scientists (David, Jeff, Ben, and Syrus) and two single story offices (Mr. Sen on level 3 and Jenna on level 2. The infirmary is in Syrus' lab area. Though the engines are basically maintenance free, there is a monitoring console for the physical equipment in Jeff's lab and one for the energy components in David's. Jeff's console also monitors all ships environmental systems except for the electrical system. That console is in Ben's area. All of these functions are also wired into the bridge command slot should the Captain care to check them. (But take note: if your drain backs up, Jeff isn't really up to that stuff, yet.)  
  
I hope this is of use. Feel free to ask any other questions you may have.  
  
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THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 15 - Jump Time  
  
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Riddick continued to lean against the counter. He didn't know what would happen if he followed her before he got his anger under control and he sure as hell didn't want to find out; couldn't afford to find out. He had to do whatever was necessary to get the surgery on his eyes. If it was as good as she said, if it was only half as good, it was something he couldn't pass on. But, just how the fuck was he supposed to get control of himself when he didn't know why he was so angry.  
  
He didn't get angry at women the way he was angry now. Well, truth was he had been pissed when Carolyn had jumped him from the back and dumped his ass in the mud but not angry like this. It was more like the way he had felt when that slime Johns had tried to play him for a fool with his promise of freedom that he had no intention of keeping. But, she hadn't done that. She was living up to the contract. Even if she was pushing him into a very uncomfortable situation to do it, she had given him good reasons for that. He couldn't even call it threatening because, oddly enough, he did trust her to guard him while he was unconscious.  
  
Then, why did he feel like he had just been back stuck? Because she had called him paranoid? He'd been called a lot worse. Because she thought he didn't trust her? Now, that was a laugh. Since when did what someone else thought about him count for anything. And where did she get off expecting something like trust from him. Shit! Why was he so angry?  
  
His thoughts were broken by Jeeter. Damn, the little weasel was getting balls.  
  
"Lady's been jamming too hard. No sleep since when. And that group ah hers. Dealing with 'em make anyone kinda crazy, too. She should be planning on getting some sack time after the jump, 'steada getting you your eyes. Always taking care and no one taking care ah her."  
  
"And you think that I'm the one who should be doing that?"  
  
"Just saying somebody oughta. Somebody she'd listen to. That's what she hired you for, isn't it? To tell her when she was doing it wrong."  
  
Riddick didn't need a lecture. He pushed off from the counter, gathered Ben's and Jeeter's hypos and headed for the hatch. But what Jeeter had said pulled at him. He paused briefly to throw an order at him.  
  
"Then get her some coffee. I'll be in the bunk room. ... She likes a lot of sugar."  
  
Now, why had he said that? What did he care if she got her damn coffee the way she liked it? He strode across the bridge, ignoring her completely. She had pulled off her boots and socks, laid her sword rig, cape and vest aside with them and was curled up again in the huge command slot. Without the vest, that cropped shirt was sexy as hell. For some reason, so were those bare feet. Now that was a new one for Riddick. But, damn she looked tired. She was working on the hyper nav. Her eyes looked all watery and she was blinking a lot. It must be the contacts .... yeah, sure ... just the contact lenses. Fuck!  
  
He wished he had stayed angry. The emotions that were replacing it were ripping him in opposite directions. The part of him that wanted to drag her to the deck and fuck her senseless, he could deal with. She was getting to him like no woman he had ever met but he could handle it. The equally strong urge to pull her into his arms and just hold her, comfort her the way he had finally learned to handle Jack after a nightmare, he couldn't. Hell, she wasn't no damn kid.  
  
In the bunk room, he found Ben already asleep. He had removed his boots and was using his cape as a blanket. He might claim to 'almost' twenty-two but, snuggled up on his side with his fists tucked under his chin, he didn't look more than twelve. It was a shame to disturb him but regular sleep wouldn't hold during hyper. Riddick pulled back the cape, unfolded one of his arms, brought up the vein and gave him the hypo as carefully as he could. Ben stirred. His eyes blinked open but, when he saw Riddick, he gave a small smile and dropped right back to sleep. Riddick chuckled. When he was a baby, the kid had probably invited the boogie man into his crib to play. Riddick tucked the arm back into its original position and flipped the cape over him again.  
  
Just as he finished with Ben, Jeeter showed. He looked like he wanted to cut Riddick's heart out. It figured that those tears would work on him. He already thought she was some kind of saint.  
  
"You'd better get comfortable. Syrus says that this stuff will take you down fast and deep."  
  
Jeeter moved to strip down to his shirt and trousers but kept throwing hard looks at Riddick. Not that Riddick cared but he might as well see how brave the little man would get.  
  
"She been telling you what a shit I am?"  
  
"Lady didn't say nothing but 'thank you' for the coffee. Lady's got more class than that. 'Sides, she don't have to tell me what a shit you are. I been being the same kind ah shit. I'm changing that. Just wondering if you got the smarts to."   
  
Riddick felt his face forming a smile at this rash nobility but quickly twisted it into a scowl as he motioned Jeeter toward a bunk. When Jeeter lay down and extended his arm to Riddick, his face was set in a grimace. Riddick played rough with the prep, enjoying a little revenge as Jeeter's anticipation of pain deepen, then gave him the same easy spike he had given Ben. He really enjoyed the look of surprise Jeeter gave him. Then as he started to stand, Jeeter caught hold of his wrist.  
  
"Barrol, .. take the risk ... Lady needs ......"  
  
He went under before he could say what he thought she needed. It was probably more of that 'taken care of' crap. Yeah, Riddick, my boy, you just get yourself out there and take care of a woman who's about as helpless and needy as a female grizzly. That image brought back memories of the one really decent home he'd had as a child, the only place he'd ever used that word to describe.  
  
They had been an older couple, really too old to still be fostering. They'd been ok for money, too. Used a lot of what the state paid them to do things with the kids that Riddick had only dreamed about: Saturday afternoon, cheap seats at the vids; swimming; picnics; even stage plays at a local college. The trips to the zoo had been his favorites. He'd loved the wild power of the predators, the cats and the bears. He'd wanted to be like them.  
  
Well, he'd certainly gotten his wish. The old man had a coronary and died and Riddick went back where he had come from, back to the hell holes and juvie slams. Then a judge had sentenced him to the Forces rather than another slam. What the mean streets had started, they honed to perfection. He had become just like those animals, a very efficient killing machine. It's too bad that zoo had been so subtile with its safety barriers. Maybe if they'd been in cages and chains he wouldn't have been so eager to be like them. Then, again, what does an eight year old kid care about future consequences; especially one who knew you'd better turn your spoon, fork, whatever they gave you into a weapon and eat with your fingers or someone bigger, meaner would take your food away from you.  
  
Riddick arranged Jeeter's arms comfortably at his sides then grabbed his cape and spread it over him. He wouldn't have bothered just for the time hyper would take but everyone might have to sleep longer than that.  
  
He stripped to his shorts and replaced the satin trousers with a pair of duty ones. He didn't bother with a shirt, just pulled on the black vest. He would have preferred one of his tanks but his bag was still out on the bridge. He removed the dagger rig from the waist belt then buckled it around him, his shiv nestled pleasantly against his spine. After he had drawn on his boots, he checked the stunner to see that it was on the right setting. He hoped he wouldn't have to use it on her but, if he did, he wanted to be sure it was set to knock her out long enough for him to use the sedative hypo he had gotten from Syrus.  
  
Now that had been a study in trust if you wanted one to examine. His explaining to Syrus that a laboratory field wasn't a definitive test, wasn't near what she would experience in full hyper-space. Syrus 'not' explaining to him why he had to use a different combination of drugs for her than for the rest of them. Not that Riddick had ever planned to take Syrus' word for that even if he had given reasons. The combination Syrus had loaded her hypo with was just too far beyond the ordinary, about the most exotic mix that Riddick had ever run into. Then, that little play in the library had given Riddick even more reason to doubt his motives. Syrus probably wouldn't do anything to permanently harm her but he might try and make it look like Riddick had. Of course, after the episode in the galley, it wasn't going to be very easy to open the subject. She'd probably just accuse him of being paranoid again. Better paranoid than fucked.  
  
Riddick walked onto the bridge to find that the subject was already open. She had both the hypos that Syrus had given him for her and a stunner laid out on the console in front of her. He tried to get a hint of her thoughts from her face. But, what he read was too complicated a mix of emotions. He just hoped that she wasn't going to try for him with that damn stunner.  
  
He chose to make the first move. Since he had no doubt that the scene she had set was the result of Syrus ratting him out, he jumped directly to his own concern. Taking an easy but ready stance in front of her, he pointed at the sedation hypo and recited a list of the drugs and the approximate proportions that he had noted when Syrus filled it. He left his obvious doubt about the mix unspoken, indicated only by the quirk of his upper lip. She answered him with a smile but it was weak, worried.  
  
"Yes. That sounds correct. How probable is it that I will react badly to hyper, that you will be forced to use it on me?"  
  
"The usual failure rate is about forty percent. Everybody that passes the lab test makes their first conscious jump strapped down with a butterfly rig already in their arm." Damn, she looked like he had hit her. "But someone who thought it was 'lovely' should have a lot better odds than that. What does that witch's brew do to you?"  
  
"It kills all sensory input, even esper, leaves only the part of the nervous system necessary to keep the heart and lungs working. But ....... I'm still awake."  
  
Riddick could taste bile in the back of his throat. His stomach was trying to crawl up his spine. Syrus, the fucking sadist, hadn't told him that; had only said that he thought Jenna would prefer to be revived rather than sleep it off "what with her duties and all". He'd been right not to trust the git. He had a very hard time keeping his rage from showing in his voice.  
  
"Why?"  
  
"I fight unconsciousness. Syrus said it was like a massive physical panic attack. If I were given enough standard sedatives to keep me unconscious it could possibly kill me. He warned me to never use cryosleep, that I would stay awake through the whole thing. Anyway, if you have to use it, please use the recovery hypo as soon as you can. I've also set my stunner for you to use if I react violently before you can give me the sedative. Don't turn the setting down. I'm stun resistant, too."  
  
The coincidences were piling too high for Riddick to swallow it any longer until Jenna continued.  
  
"Syrus asked me to see if you had similar reactions. Ever since he found out that I can tolerate hyper, he has been trying to find research to support a theory that it is all connected somehow; that whatever makes me sedative and stun resistant is the same thing that allows me to tolerate hyper. But there isn't any. It seems no one else has made the same connection. Most people would take that as a sign that there wasn't one but not Syrus. To him it just makes it more possible because he's so bloody brilliant compared to the rest. He's driven me crazy with his tests. He'll probably try to do the same with you. Oh Lord, ........ I am babbling, aren't I? ....."  
  
Yeah, she was right. She was babbling. But her babbling was making more sense than most people's serious talk. He had never thought about there being a connection. By the time he had discovered the cryo and stunner part of it, he wasn't in any position to compare notes with any other hyper pilots. They were a protected breed, not likely to have experienced either one unless they had been royally screwed like he had. But that would have put them in slam just like him and in slam no body compared notes about anything. Maybe a similarity of two wasn't much but when that two were part of less than five percent it had to have some weight to it.  
  
"Much as I hate to admit it, Dr. Vicious just may have a point. But what about your surgery? Can you take it for six to eight hours? I know I can't. Even awake in cryo isn't like that. It's boring as hell but you know what's going on around you, know that there is something around you. We're back to me taking it awake with a local."  
  
"He was planning on using the full range of drugs only until he had finished the surgery. He said that after that local muscle paralysis and anesthetic drops for the eyes plus head and upper body restraints would be sufficient for the rest of it, for the Quizzler Chamber. Since he prides himself on his speed as well as his perfection, this is very reassuring. He can do yours the same way."  
  
Riddick didn't argue with her. He could understand why, with her admitted sensitivity about her eyes, Syrus would consider total sensory depravation the lesser of the two evils. But he didn't have that problem. If Syrus was so interested in his original shine and how it was done, it should be easy to get him to do this one with just the local drugs. Hell, that would be nothing compared to what he went through for the first one. Time to change the subject.  
  
"Where are we going to jump to? You had seven plots in the nav. They were all longer jumps. With the reaction we seem to share to cryo, I don't think that you are going to have a problem but I'd rather plot a very short jump and then re-plot when we're sure of that."  
  
He could see from the look she gave him that she wasn't going for that.  
  
"No. We will pick the best jump and I will take my chances. Now, let's look at the plots and you tell me which destination would be the best for us to hide out for a while."  
  
Jenna threw all the coded plots onto the main viewer. Riddick wasn't happy when his plot to New Mecca flashed up with the rest. Damn, with everything else going on, he had forgotten to open the program and get rid of it. Of course, she spotted it immediately and highlighted it.  
  
"Yours?"  
  
Riddick's first impulse was to admit what she already knew but not to give any more information unless she asked. Then, the speech he had overheard her give Jeeter made him decide otherwise.  
  
"Yes. There are some people there that I was thinking about, wondering if they were all right. I meant to erase it but then things got a little busy."  
  
"Would it serve as a good destination for us?"  
  
Well there it was, his chance to check on Jack and Iman handed to him on a platter. Just one lie would get it for him.  
  
"No. It's a crossroad. Too much traffic and most of it Company connected. Chinchillas is the best of what you've plotted. It's an outpost station for shipping to quite a few new settlement systems. The traffic is light but not so light that we'd be out of place. What makes it the best is that it isn't profitable enough yet to get the Company's attention. Just have to leave hyper far enough out so that we're on Keller when we hit their sensors."  
  
"Well, that's it then. You adjust the plot while I run the prep checks."  
  
Riddick took the pilot slot and opened the nav computer. He had barely made the re-plot when a loud hiss from Jenna turned him toward her again.  
  
"Problems?"  
  
"You could say that. We have a traitor."  
  
She said it so calmly. The expression on her face was detached, thoughtful. Only her eyes told the truth. They had that eerie gentle sadness in them again. Riddick felt an unpleasant chill run down his back and a metallic taste tainted his mouth. When she found out who her traitor was, it was going to be G all over again. Killing in hot blood, killing in cold blood; these he had done, could understand. Hell, even though it wasn't his thing, he could understand the ones who got their rocks off on it. He hated the fuckers but he understood them. But, doing it with compassion and regret; that wasn't normal. Oh, yeah, right. Look at who was making moral judgements.  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"An automatic security check program runs every quarter hour. Within fifteen minutes after we left the library, someone activated a tracking signal broadcast. They either didn't like the way our meeting was resolved and made their final decision to turn because of it or were already turned and waited until the last moment, just before being sedated, to activate it. Obviously, they want it broadcasting when we come out of hyper. Either they didn't know about the internal security system or were betting we wouldn't run a last minute check."  
  
"Any idea who it might be?"  
  
Jenna began keying as she talked.  
  
"It's in the bay so anyone could have planted it. The only thing I am certain of is that it wasn't Ben. He wrote the auto check into the programming for me. I do not believe that it was Jeeter because his being here was in no way predictable. I also do not suspect you. Both Jeeter and Mr. G provided proof that you are exactly who you are supposed to be. Therefore, because of your profession and what I have observed of your nature, I believe that, even with small possibility that you may have been contacted and turned, it wasn't you. When it comes to the authorities or the Company, you are not the type to play well with others. You would have been more likely to take the up-front money, if any was offered, and then shove the thing down a disposal chute, planning to hijack the ships for yourself instead. That leaves me five suspects; all of whom are quite capable of it. There is also the possibility that two or more are collaborating."  
  
She finished her keying and looked up at him.  
  
"May I ask what you think is so amusing?"  
  
Riddick wasn't upset with himself for allowing his lips to curve into a twisted smile. At least he had kept from releasing the roar of laughter that sat threateningly at the back of his throat.  
  
"Your reasons for not suspecting me, that's what. I don't think I've ever been given a more accurate and flattering description of myself. Now, what are you planning to do about our little problem?"  
  
"I've taken care of the signal already. They can't track us in hyper. I've set the ship to come out of hyper totally shielded. That will block the signal while allowing the device to seem to be functioning correctly. As to our enemy within, there are no fingerprints or DNA present on the outside of the device. I've set up a constant security watch. Anyone approaching it to do a manual check or anyone who activates a remote control signal will be identified and logged. I am hoping that who ever it is will believe that their plan is succeeding long enough to be discovered before they decide to take further action. My real worry is how deeply our own plans have been compromised. I don't think that the people who want us would choose to rely on such a relatively short range beacon if they didn't have a very good idea of the possible destinations that we had plotted. That means that they probably have spy-ware in our main computer. When did you make your plot?"  
  
"I locked it into the main when you had us line up to check out the uniforms. Why?"  
  
"Ben locked off the ship's com port when he went to change. It's a manual lock. No spy-ware can open a manual lock. It seems that you are going to be able to visit your friends after all."  
  
Suddenly Riddick didn't want the "Hole in the Wall" anywhere near Iman and Jack.  
  
"No. I can plot any destination you want in less that thirty minutes. I told you, New Mecca has too much Company traffic."  
  
"That should work to our advantage. They wouldn't suspect that we would hide right under their noses. Still, I understand that you don't wish to put your friends at risk." Damn, had he suddenly turned into an open book? "I need somewhere that you know well enough to choose an unofficial landing site for the BC, a gorge or cave or something like that, and find me an untraceable data link to find out what happened on Derius 4 and what the Company and the military are doing about it. It should also be somewhere that, if the situation is as bad as I think it is, you and Jeeter can take the loot from Mr. G's vault and safely disappear. If you know of some other destination that will suffice, then plot it. If not, load the plot for New Mecca and we will jump immediately."  
  
Riddick's mind froze for a moment. It was a play. It had to be.  
  
"What about our contract?"  
  
"You didn't contract for this kind of trouble. I can't get to our accounts so my share of the loot is the best I can do as far as pay. The identities that Ben worked on are most likely compromised and of no use but you will have your eyes. That part of the bargain I can keep. Now, is it New Mecca or somewhere else?"  
  
The last was easy. It had to be New Mecca. That was the only place, other than Derius 4, where he could be certain that he could find her a hacker set-up like she needed. Things could change a lot in four years. But the rest of it? How did he deal with that?  
  
Shit! What was there to deal with. He'd be walking free and easy on New Mecca, back with Jack and Iman, with more than he had ever planned on having. His eyes would be even better than he had thought was possible. He still had every credit he had saved stashed safely under the false bottom of his satchel and would have a small fortune to add to it once he had converted his half of the loot into cash. The perfect new identity? He hadn't planned on going along with that anyway. So he had hit a glory hole instead of the mother lode; it was still a damn rich haul.  
  
And the contract? It was her choice to cancel it. She was the one who decided she could handle things on her own. If she had asked him ......... But she hadn't. That made it not his problem. Didn't it? Hell, she said it herself; he hadn't contracted for this kind of trouble. Yeah, but he had contracted to teach her what she needed to know to survive. Turning him and Jeeter loose wasn't the way for her to do that. Always taking care, no one to take care of her. Fuck!  
  
He loaded the New Mecca plot and then slid out of the pilot slot and crossed the bridge to stand beside Jenna.  
  
"Get up."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"You remember what I said about being strapped down for the first jump? Well, we don't have any straps. So, it's a good thing that command slot is so roomy because you're going to make the jump sitting on my lap."  
  
"You're joking?!"  
  
She wasn't angry. Her eyes had gone wide and a slight flush was creeping over her face. Her reaction caused Riddick to realize just how much the seriousness of their situation had been bothering him. He hadn't even thought of the pleasant side benefits of this necessary precaution. Well, hell, everything that could be done about the problem had been done so why not have a little more of the game while he could. He leaned toward her, lowered his voice and smirked.  
  
"No. I'm not, sweet thing. If you go weird before we're set in the pipe, I'm going to be too busy with the controls to chase you around the bridge. So I'm going to keep you close, very close until I'm sure you stay sane in hyper."  
  
The blush deepened. Jenna popped up out of the slot as if there had been a spring under her and backed away from him to stand on the other side of the chair.  
  
He made a show of settling himself comfortably into the slot before looking up at her and patting the top of one thigh in invitation. Jenna seemed to have regained some control. She was trying her best to look severe but couldn't keep her lips from trying to curve into a grin.  
  
"Are you sure there isn't some other way to handle this?"  
  
"Well, I could tear up some bed sheets and tie you to the legs of the console but I don't think that you could learn very much about piloting into hyper from there. Besides the deck isn't very soft. You would be much more comfortable on my lap. But ...... if you're into being tied up we can try it."  
  
Jenna squeaked and clamped both hands over her mouth. Her eyes danced. Riddick couldn't be sure what she was smothering but he would have bet his fortune that it was laughter. Then the sparkle in her eyes died. Disappointment flooded Riddick. Here it comes; the realization of who she was dealing with; the anxiety then the fear. He expected her to back even farther away. Instead, she lowered her hands revealing a wistful smile and stepped into the space between his knees and the console.  
  
"I don't know if I would be 'into' it or not. Even sadder than that, I have no idea how to go about sitting on a man's lap. If you haven't noticed, I'm not the petite, lap-toy type."  
  
She made it sound like a joke. Did a good enough job of it to fool most people. But, Riddick could hear the resignation and bitterness underneath. He could hear it because he knew what that felt like; to stand outside, watching other people who had what you wanted so desperately and finally realizing that you were never, never, NEVER going to be invited inside. It didn't matter what that thing was, the feeling was the same.  
  
With a growl rumbling deep in his throat, he grabbed her waist with both hands. Spinning her around until he was looking at her beautiful ass, he hooked a foot behind her ankles and flipped her feet off of the floor. As she fell backwards with a shocked gasp, he stopped her fall. After holding her suspended above him long enough for her to be totally aware of how easy it was for him to do that, he slowly lowered her onto his lap and snugged her tightly against his chest.  
  
Oh, damn, she fit nice. Her height was in her legs. Holding her like this, his chin was slightly higher than her shoulder and his nose and lips rested perfectly against her ear. He gentle tongued the rim of her ear and then whispered in his most predatory purr.  
  
"No. I didn't notice that. Now, adjust the console up and back until it's comfortable for you."  
  
He felt her shiver then heard the catch in her breathing as the hardon this gave him pressed against her. Real subtle, Riddick, you had more control than this when you were a teenager. When she reached to adjust the console, her hands were unsteady. Riddick kept his firmly on her waist even though ..... no ... make that because .. there were a lot of other places he would rather put them. This was going to be a very interesting jump.  
  
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Jenna could hardly manipulate the controls on the console. If she stiffened her hands enough to keep them steady, they were useless clubs. What was wrong with her? In the whole of the universe there were millions of women sitting on the laps of millions of men. Oh, yes. But not men like him with women like her ... not her, not ever before to her. But so much more, the way he had put her in his lap. His strength so overpowering; so much greater than her own; used not to prove his masculinity but to show her own femininity to her. A piece of her most hidden dreams sensed and fulfilled. Another thing that she had not encountered before. A thing she had not thought possible outside of the pages of romance novels.  
  
Now, the hard press of his erection against her ... never that before, either. Men had complimented her on her intelligence, her calm sensible nature, her expertise and devotion to her vocation. They had offered her every kind of professional relationship, including marriage. But never, never had they told her she was desirable as a woman; never invited her into their laps; never showed her one twitch of a dick nor any other sign they wanted her in their bed, much less up against a wall. As if any of them could have even attempted that without causing themselves serious physical damage.  
  
But that hadn't been the worst of it. The daemon that tortured her wasn't their lack of desire for her but her lack of desire for them. As hard as she tried, and with Carl/David that had been a great effort, she had never felt anything greater than warm affection. It hadn't taken her long to understand that she was the problem; a freak, devoid of normal sexuality; a neuter thing that could only react to fictional exaggeration but never to flesh and blood reality.  
  
Well, ten minutes in a dim, dingy tavern had slain that daemon; slain one and birthed another. All right! She had to get a hold on her self. This wasn't anything a woman should want. It never had been anything that could have been permanent, lasting; that would have been until death do you part. Now, it couldn't even be the bitter-sweet ecstasy of a brief affair. It would be nothing more than sex, meaningless animal lust; a single violent coupling that would probably be more painful than satisfying.  
  
Oh, God, why did you bring him to me only to force me send him away.  
  
At this thought her hands steadied. Her hunger for him was about to eat her alive but her hands steadied.  
  
"All right, Riddle. Let's get the suspense over with. How do you want to do this?"  
  
"Work it just like the simulator. I won't interfere unless you're doing something wrong."  
  
As she engaged the countdown and settled her fingers into the proper positions on the controls, his hands moved from her waist to her wrists. They rested there with the lightest of touches, not interfering with her movements while capable of instantly jerking her away from the controls. She had no doubt in his ability to restrain her with one arm while handling the con with his other hand.  
  
Her mind centered, focused on the data streaming across the nav display. First came the major changes in direction, attitude and acceleration and then a seemingly never ending list of minor corrections that seemed to grow in volume as the jump point approached. Why was that happening? Was she making errors? Riddle must have sensed her anxiety. His fingers tightened briefly on her wrists then released.  
  
"Relax. Like Jeeter said, you're a real hot stick. You're running at a tangent to the system rather than straight out and you're not regulation distance from the local star. That's a very illegal jump for anyone but military on Alert One status; not something they teach on simulators. Let me know as soon as you start feeling the hyper field."  
  
Now, that was a strange way to word that question, wasn't it?  
  
"You mean when I feel the next increase in it, don't you?"  
  
She felt Riddle's body stiffen. There was a new note of tension in his voice.  
  
"How long has it been effecting you?"  
  
She continued following the scrolling adjustments as she tried to decide how much to tell him about that. She finally decided on the full truth even though she wondered if it was going to get her tied to the leg of the console after all.  
  
"Since I was born at night, probably from my first breath. That is why I love the night. But I learned not to talk about it by the time I was four and I didn't know what it was until I took the lab test."  
  
She couldn't call what she felt from Riddle anxiety; maybe wariness, suspicion.  
  
"Why night?"  
  
"The atmosphere blocks most of it and combined with the energy of direct sunlight it eliminates it. The closest simile I can give you: day, nothing; night, like a soft whisper; off planet, a low pitched murmur. Right now it's like the level of a private conversation. But it's more like music than speech. Yet, neither. Some of the things written about esper experiences come close but I don't think that the words to describe it have been invented yet."  
  
"Are you esper?"  
  
"Only the usual things, what they call gut reactions, internal alarms, subconscious reasoning. Is this obviously abnormal sensitivity to hyper energy a problem? When we jump, will I over load or something like that?"  
  
He was silent for a long time. At least, it seemed like a long time to Jenna. Oh, Lord, why did she have to be such a freak in everything. Her hands were beginning to quiver again when he finally answered.  
  
"I don't think so. After the lab tests we had to answer a lot of questions about it. One of them was if we had ever felt anything like the hyper field before. Anyone who answered 'yes' was transferred out as soon as they passed the first jump. The rumor was that they were looking for pathfinders."  
  
Jenna interrupted.  
  
"Pathfinders?"  
  
"You were right comparing hyper energy to esper. They've never been able to invent instruments that can sense either one. Pathfinders are people who can feel hyper in normal space, find the weak points where it leaks out, where if you do it right you can get a ship into it. Once they're in, they record all the pipes, lower energy currents, that connect with that gate and what other gates they connect to. All that your nav computer is doing is making sure that we match, match exactly, a map that was made by a pathfinder."  
  
"What if we don't hit it right?"  
  
"If we're lucky, we end up some where else in known space. It not, no body hears from us again; maybe destroyed in hyper, maybe some other dimension or galaxy that we can't get home from. They don't know. Even pathfinder ships have been lost."  
  
"How do they map them?"  
  
"I don't know. But ...." She felt his head move slightly as he checked the nav readouts. "..I'd say that in about a minute thirty you are going to be able to tell me. One thing is sure, you don't have to worry about being the goat they hang if we're caught. If you can function as a pathfinder, you'll be worth more to them than all the rest put together. What does it feel like now?"  
  
"Strong. Almost the same level as the lab test."  
  
"That sounds right. I'm beginning to feel it and the lab tests are just below entry. Push an artificial field any higher and really nasty things happen."  
  
Jenna felt her fingers making a final minute correction. Riddle grabbed her wrists.  
  
"Why did you do that?"  
  
"We weren't quite centered."  
  
"The computer thought we were."  
  
"Well it was wrong. The energy was heavier to port."  
  
Jenna had just realized what she had said when, with Riddles deep rolling laughter echoing in her ears, she felt the full force of hyper space surge in on her.  
  
They had jumped. 


	16. Chapter 16 Hyper Space

To my loyal reviewers: you have my undying gratitude. I have no BETA. You are my sounding board. Your comments, questions and suggestions have been invaluable and have led my imagination into paths I had not considered.  
  
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To those reading but not reviewing: Come join the party. I know you're sitting out there with wonderful ideas that I would appreciate having.  
  
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THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 16 - Hyper Space  
  
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As the vortex of the pipe hit him, Riddick gasped. Aaaaahhhh, ffffuuuucccckkkk!!!! It had been soooo long, too long since he had felt this. He couldn't stop his head from falling back into the cushioning of the slot and his body from arching upwards. It was like his first jump all over again. There was nothing but the total mental, physical, emotional and sensual high created by the massive alien energy surging around him. The clarity, the control would come but the moments before it did would seem like an eternity. He cursed himself for not realizing that this might happen as he felt Jenna jerk her wrists free from his weakened grasp. With a great effort he threw his arms up trying to catch hold of some part of her before she escaped him completely. But his hands encountered nothing and, his ability to control them completely depleted, his arms continued their swinging arc until they were wrapped around his chest.  
  
But that wasn't his chest against his arms. Not his arms against his chest, either. He forced his eyes open. He was staring into other eyes, Jenna's eyes. His mind must be clearing a little because he understood that her body was stretched along his and she was facing him. He briefly wondered how she had managed that maneuver but had no time to dwell on it. Every cell in his mind and body screamed its need for her. There was nothing in his universe but the sweet smell of her, the heat of her body against his, the sight of her hungry eyes and the play of her tongue across her lips. His arms tightened around her and he tried to lift his lips to take hers.  
  
All this accomplished was to cause his arched body to collapse, folding him awkwardly into the slot with his face buried between her breasts. He discovered that he couldn't breath very well but he didn't care. With a hungry growl he extended his tongue and tasted her. Such a fantastic taste; slightly salty, pheromone laced taste. She seemed to urge him on with a low throaty moan then confused him by struggling to pull away from him.   
  
Suddenly the back of the slot fell away and Jenna was holding herself above him, her elbows on either side of his head. The damned expensive command slot reclined! What a freaking fantastic waste of credits. He spread his legs, drawing them up on either side of Jenna. Placing his boots on the edge of the console, he pushed himself backward until he felt the edge trim of the backrest against the top of his head. It surprised him that his legs were fully extended. She must have moved the console when she lay down on top of him. His time sense was really screwed. Jenna had slid back a little during this. He had lost her breasts but found those hungry eyes and lips again. He reached for her lips but she pulled back.   
  
"Are you in any condition to tell me if there is anything else I need to do at the controls?"  
  
Her voice gave him a focus point, something for the clarity to build on.  
  
"Huhuh."  
  
"Huhuh, what? You're not in any condition or there's nothing else to do?"  
  
How the hell could she be so in control her first jump? Well, she said she could feel it most of the time. That put her way ahead of him, it had been twelve years since he had felt it.  
  
"Nothing else to do. Can't maneuver in hyper......... Well, 'you' could, my beautiful little pathfinder. But for now, we just ride the pipe."  
  
"Good. Lights fifteen percent."  
  
She gently removed his shades and stared into his eyes.  
  
"I'd rather ride you."  
  
Before Riddick could think of a reply she lower her face toward him. But, instead of kissing him, she ran the tip of her tongue around his slightly open lips. With an animal sound, he buried one hand in the soft curls at the back of her head and forced her lips against his. Sucking her tongue deep into his mouth, he lashed it with his own. When he finally release it, he expected her to escape quickly. Instead, she began stroking his tongue slowly, languidly, then teased the tip with her own; enticing, luring flicks that led his tongue into her mouth to be captured in turn.  
  
Unlike his almost savage assault, she sucked him gently; her stroking tongue remaining serpentinely subtile. She tasted of surrender. He began slowly tongue fucking her mouth; pausing between thrusts to explore the sharp edges of her teeth, the soft skin of her cheeks or resting the tip of his tongue against the roof of her mouth as she massaged the underside of it and sucked him. It was heaven; it was hell. He desperately wanted that mouth around his dick but couldn't give up what she was doing to him now. Finally they had both re-breathed each others breath too many times. They simultaneously broke away, panting for a new supply of oxygen.  
  
Recovery was quick. Jenna began sensuously dragging her sharp edged teeth along his jugular as her hands slipped under the vest and began massaging his sides and chest. Damn, her hands were so soft and gentle but their strokes over his naked skin were powerful and sure; not irritatingly ticklish but demanding and lustful. Riddick had just formed the intention to return the favor when he was momentarily paralyzed as clarity slammed into him pinning his mind to the back of his skull. With the return of reason came a new understanding of the situation. Hell, how was he supposed to know this would happen? He'd never been in hyper with a woman before. He hadn't even been tempted to do for himself in hyper. His laughter was unpleasantly sardonic. Jenna's head popped up. Her brow was deeply furrowed with a small dose of irritation and a large one of insecurity.  
  
"Am I that inadequate?"  
  
"Oh no, sweet thing. You're fantastic. But this just isn't happening because..."  
  
"What?!"  
  
Suddenly Riddick had his arms around a very pissed off woman. Fists, knees, elbows, anything she could move, she was using to try to do serious damage to him. The only reason she wasn't doing it was that his own hold on her head and body and the arms of the slot kept her from getting any real power behind her blows. Even at that, he was going to have some interesting and painful bruises.  
  
"You dirty rotten bastard! It's all been a joke to you, hasn't it. Just a cruel, stupid joke! Just something to keep from getting bored, to boost your infantile male ego! I'll kill you! If it's the last thing I do, I'll kill you!"  
  
Damn! He'd had women react this way because they thought he was going to rape them but never before one who wanted to kill him because he wasn't going to put it to her. He chuckled. Not a good move. She redoubled her efforts and managed to land a fairly solid blow to the side of his head. Enough of this shit. He let go of her body, grasped the top of one of the slot arms and flipped over, pinning her beneath him. Capturing her flailing arms, he forced her to stop her attack.  
  
To his surprise, she continued to struggle against him. His muscular bulk didn't deter her the way he had expected. She was arching her body from shoulders to heels and carrying his with her. If it hadn't of been for the height of the slot arms, she could quite possibly have been able to buck him off of her. He had known that there was good muscle under that luscious soft exterior but he hadn't realized just how good. He was relieved when she finally accepted the impossibility of freeing herself and quieted. He didn't like it that she had her face turned away from him as far as was physically possible.  
  
"Get. Off. Of. Me!"  
  
"Not until I finish what I was saying."  
  
He waited a moment. She answered him in a way. She stayed motionless and silent.  
  
"This isn't happening because we're both whacked out on hyper."  
  
No reaction. He gathered both of her wrists into one hand. He forced the fingers of the other under her face, prying it away from the upholstery of the slot. The pressure of his grasp was almost brutal as he forced her to face him. Then, he relaxed his hold enough to be able to stroke her cheek with his index finger.  
  
"Don't you have any doubt, sweet thing, it is going to happen this way. It's just not going to be this time; not the first time. The first time you moan and beg me for more it's going to be me doing that to you, not some freaking energy field."  
  
"Oh! ........."  
  
Her eyes were little-child wide and she was blushing furiously; her voice was breathy and unsteady. He felt his control slipping. He began to lift himself off of her.   
  
"But you're staying on New Mecca?"  
  
Riddick had thought that he was still struggling with that decision. Her question caused him to realize that he had already made it. He stood up and pulled her up to stand beside him.  
  
"No. I always finish my contracts. You're not ready to survive on your own yet."  
  
He saw disappointment on her face. Did she just want a quick roll and to be rid of him? Her next question put the lie to that thought.  
  
"It's just the contract then?"  
  
He blurted out the truth.  
  
"The only thing that damn contract is doing is keeping me from stuffing you, Ben and Jeeter into the BC and taking our best chance for surviving this. Now, turn that thing back into a chair so we can sit down and have some conversation to pass the time."  
  
This answer seemed to shock her. Well, yeah. The idea of deserting the others wasn't something she would ever have considered. He could feel her withdrawing from him; like a saint would shy from the devil.  
  
"Wouldn't it be better ..... under the circumstances, I mean .... shouldn't we take separate slots?"  
  
She wasn't going to escape him that easy. He knew what buttons to push. He gave her a smirky leer.  
  
"What's wrong, sweet thing, afraid you won't be able to control yourself?"  
  
She took the dare. Oh, hell. She could look really wicked when she wanted to. Not a side of her he had seen before.  
  
"Me not control? Just who started this?"  
  
"You did. Running your tongue over my lips like that, what did you expect to happen?"  
  
"Oh, really? Your treating me like a lolly-pop doesn't count? If it wasn't eighteen caret gold, the catch on my shirt would be rusting. Did you really think you could open it with your teeth?"  
  
"The one I put on there I could have. What did you replace it with? A combination lock?"  
  
As the torrent of Jenna's laughter rolled over him, he realized what he had admitted to. It was the damn hyper. If you weren't constantly on guard, you blurted out every thought that crossed your mind. Fuck, she was laughing so hard she was bent double.  
  
"Ok, ok, you get the points on that play but it's not 'that' funny."  
  
Still giggling, she unbent and looked him in the eye.  
  
"Oh, yes it is. I didn't change it .... and it is quite complicated to open; a double latch set up. I seem to have a guardian angel."  
  
It took Riddick a second or two to get the joke. That meddling little weasel was going to be an angel for real if he wasn't careful. Now, 'that' was funny. It'd serve God right to have Jeeter loose on his turf.  
  
"Just make us a chair."  
  
He had tried to sound angry. Better angry than embarrassed. The slight quirk to Jenna's lips told him that he hadn't succeeded. Shit! Big Evil did not do embarrassed! What was she doing to him? No. It was just the hyper, that's all.  
  
She reconfigured the slot and motioned him to sit and then to move to one side of it. There was no hesitating this time. Leaning in, she place a hand on each arm and swung herself to hover above him. Then she let herself down gently, her hips occupying the space between him and the furthest arm, her thighs across his lap and her lower legs trailing down his own. Damn, women must have different joints than men; the positions they could curl into.  
  
Without thinking, he wrapped one arm around her shoulders, hooked the other hand around her knees and snugged her closer. When he realized what he was doing, it was too late to reverse it without making it look like he did doubt his own ability to control. He'd burn until he melted before he let her think that. The best way to control the body, pleasure or pain, was to keep the mind somewhere else.  
  
"Now tell me about this Institute of yours and why the company shrink is helping the inmates escape."  
  
This got him another round of laughter before Jenna started speaking.  
  
"First, I'm not a company shrink. I'm an 'inmate' just like the rest. But I'd better start at the beginning. The Institute was created by Mr. Wallace Lackland, actually by the executors of his will. The bulk of his fortune was designated to be used to identify and monitor extraordinarily intelligent people for the purpose of providing funding and any other necessary support to any that were unable to find it in the general community. No reason for this was given in the will but it may have been due to the suicide of a extremely brilliant childhood friend of his.  
  
"To receive this aid, a percentage of any income from their work was assigned to the Institute to maintain the trust and continue the program. As it turned out, this was very successful. One of greatest problems among genius level people is a lack of money sense. Their work is their focus. If the results of that work even get into the market place, they are usually cheated blind on the profits and then swindled out of what they do get by common con men. With the Institute providing marketing and accounting services, both the clients and the Institute flourished economically. The Institute was soon able to extend beyond the planet of origin and most of the Inner Cluster planets have chapters of the Institute.  
  
"However, in the beginning,they had a very big problem. There were just too many deserving candidates that required a great deal more than a marketing partner and economic advisor. Super intelligence doesn't lend itself to adaptability to general society without a great deal of training. The end result of that led to the stereotypes of the 'mad scientist' and the 'needs a keeper to see that he puts his pants on before leaving the house'. Also, there is a fine line between genius and insanity. To much frustration or isolation and that beautiful mind goes up in flames. Since care and housing after the fact is very expensive and a lost of talent is an unacceptable waste, they decided to begin the location and monitoring process with children, through the educational systems. The idea was to catch any problems at the earliest stages and provide adaptive training, counseling and sheltering before it was out of control. The goal was to see that they didn't need the Institute by the time they reached adulthood. It was a very successful program.  
  
"Since they did most of the aid to minors without charge, you would have thought that this would have eventually bankrupted the trust. However, along with the small minority that still required shelter residence for survival there were always those who preferred the sheltered life of the Institute to commercial employment. It relieves them of any menial concerns that would interfere with their work, the direction of their work is, was, not dictated and they were assured that their discoveries and inventions would be licensed only for socially and morally beneficial purposes. Consequently they were usually more productive, more cutting edge, than the norm and the Institute profits reflected that. That is what attracted the interest of the Company. The Institute court battles to refuse licensing of certain processes to the military, most of which they have won, is what allied them with Galactic.."  
  
Riddick interrupted.  
  
"Do you want me to believe that some trust fund social workers could take on the Forces and win?"  
  
Jenna looked evil again. He decided he was beginning to really like that look on her.  
  
"The Institute was big on publicity and public opinion and had a great deal of clout in high places. The political branch of United Worlds is very sensitive to all of those. They also don't trust their own military any farther than they can see them; do not want them having weapons superiority over the Patrol if push comes to shove. History is full of military take overs and United Worlds doesn't want another one.  
  
"Our problem right now is that somehow they have gotten control of enough members of the Board of Directors to begin a legal take over of the Institute's sheltered facilities with Galactic out front and the military as a silent partner. Our's is the third they've taken. A colleague of Mr. Sen, who was a resident of the first, managed to get a warning to him. The others tried to stop it legally but with the Board of Directors corrupted they had no chance. Selling our contracts was a totally legal business transaction.  
  
"Mr. Sen knew that from the beginning and began planning our escape immediately after receiving the warning. Blowing up the facility and seemingly committing mass suicide was to cover our escape but we also hoped that it would be news worthy enough to create questions about what Galactic was doing; perhaps enough questions to slow them down until we could find a way to stop them. But, since everyone knew about it, I'm sure they've prevented the explosion."  
  
She fell silent; immersed in her own thoughts. Riddick didn't want her silent. While the information she had given him so far was valuable, it told him nothing about her.  
  
"So, if you're just another sheltered genius, tell me why you decided to crawl into a hole and hide from the world?"  
  
He had intended to provoke her. Angry she would be more susceptible to hyper's effect and blurt out things she wouldn't tell him otherwise. She didn't get angry. She laughed again.  
  
"Oh, I'm an exception. So is Ben but not such a big one. We didn't run away from the world, we just haven't left home yet. We are exceptions because the Institute doesn't put children in sheltered facilities. They find them suitable foster homes when circumstances make it necessary to take custody of them. I'm the bigger exception because I'm not even a genius, much less a super intelligence. My father was that. My IQ is only 153 with differential IQs in some forms of logic and reasoning in the 160s; just short of regular genius and not at all close to super intelligent. But father had been a recipient of Institute counseling and later had chosen to live in a facility for nearly ten years. When he met mother, she was able to give him the companionship and support he needed and they decided to opt out of the Institute."  
  
Riddick interrupted.  
  
"Opt out? I thought you said the contracts were for life."  
  
"They are but they can be voided if both parties agree to it. As I said some residents are in a sheltered facility because they can't survive otherwise. Unless the Board of Directors believe this has changed, they won't agree to voiding the contract. But they do allow spouses and children to reside in the facilities in a case like that. The same family arrangement can be made if a facility resident doesn't want to opt out. It's just a matter of assigning a little more of their income to cover the added cost to the facility."  
  
Riddick wondered which side of that David and Sasha were on but knew better than to ask Jenna about it. Besides, it raised another question about her.  
  
"Why didn't they put you in a facility with families, with other kids?"  
  
"They're set up differently. They're really sheltered neighborhoods. One of the families would have had to foster me and, truthfully, they have too many problems of their own for that. The Institute doesn't foster except to extremely stable homes."  
  
Riddick had trouble buying that. She had been born into that kind of family. Well, maybe not. Her father had been allowed to opt out.  
  
"So what happened that you ended up back with the Institute?"  
  
"I wasn't quite eight years old when mother, father and my younger brother were killed in a commercial skimmer crash. They had made the Institute my guardian in their wills and as an incentive for it to overlook my lack of IQ had reassigned the income from father's pattens to my physical guardian until I was of age. They also made it clear that they wanted me in a facility, not a foster home. After that, the income continued to go to the Institute if I remained and was to be paid directly to me if I opted out. I was the first non-genius facility resident the Institute ever had.  
  
"Now, they have quite a few. It seems that in my fields genius is a disability. The few higher level IQs that are even interested in such soft science make fantastic theory technicians but lack the empathy components for actual therapy work. Because of me, the Institute discovered that having a resident near genius therapist in a group not only generated substantial income from the technical side and lowered the cost of the minor counseling program but also kept the group a great deal more stable; not so many requests for transfer to another facility because of personal disputes and internal friction and, more importantly, an extreme reduction in suicides and homicides.   
  
"Of course the others can't know that the therapist isn't a genius nor that one of his assignments is inhouse. Adult super IQs are resistant to normal methods of therapy. You have to take the role of a peer and an interested and caring friend or they will distrust and resent you instead of confiding in you. The inhouse program was the reason Ben ended up living in the facility. He was extremely angry and vented it in very destructive behavior. He wasn't responding to the usual counseling and they had run out of foster homes that would take him. He also had no trust in adults at all. So, they gave him to me. He was almost ten and I was thirteen."  
  
"He told me that his mother was a whore and deserted him when he was nine. Is that true?"  
  
Her expression became very sober. Riddick knew that she was having a debate with herself; ethics verses need-to-know. The only reason she had told them what she had about Syrus was to lower the probability of bloodshed. When she began to answer him, he knew that her reason now was to make sure that he had the straight of what Ben had already told him.  
  
"Not completely. She did desert him but she wasn't a professional whore. She sold herself for emotional reasons not economic ones. She was well provided for by a trust but was a weak, needy, frightened woman who couldn't understand any way to survive but under the protection of a man. After Ben's father died, she went from man to man, totally terrified after one left her until she could find another. Being so desperate, she always made bad choices. They always deserted her as soon as they found out that the trust couldn't be broken. Finally, she found one who was willing to marry her but he didn't want Ben around. End of story."  
  
If Jenna thought that was some sort of justification for what the woman had done, Riddick didn't.  
  
"What happened to the bitch?"  
  
She gave him a slightly censorious look but didn't take it any further.  
  
"I don't know. The last record I could find, she and her new husband went off planet and she has never attempted any contact with Ben. When did he tell you about her? I've never known him to speak about her except to me."  
  
"We had a little conversation after you fainted."  
  
Her face glowed with curiosity. Riddick knew what was coming and began editing that conversation. Deciding how to tell her enough to satisfy her but no more than that.  
  
"I though it must have been you. Please, tell me what you said to him. He should have been in crisis instead of apologetic and understanding. And later, he not only accepted but was pleased with how I looked in this uniform. The change in his maturity level is amazing."  
  
"First I gave him an example of how his life could have been a lot worse than it was and then we had a discussion about clothing as camouflage. So, nobody in the group knows that you are their assigned shrink?"  
  
She gave him a disapproving grimace then smiled.  
  
"I know there had to be more to it than that but I'm too grateful for the result to be petty about it. To answer your question, Mr. Sen knows because he was the one who called the Board of Directors attention to the effect I had on the others and he and I worked together to develop the guidelines for setting up similar situations in the other facilities. That is no problem because he is the most centered and sane person imaginable. I am also fairly certain that Syrus is aware of it, too. But, that really doesn't matter, either. Syrus wouldn't confide anything personal to God, much less any other human being, friend or shrink.  
  
"But, he likes me. Don't ask me why. I have always had the suspicion that he uses our verbal sparing matches as his own twisted kind of therapy; a touch stone with reality, venting session and attitude adjustment all in one. We also have a very close professional relationship. He accepts me as superior to him in my own field. I have been his assistant when he is into the human testing stages of his work since I was thirteen. I do the all the initial interviews and psychological evaluations and keep his subjects from fleeing in terror or trying to kill him during the medical procedures and evaluations."  
  
Riddick had to laugh at the image this created.  
  
"You're right. It could get very interesting. I also write the recommendation papers concerning the possible psychological effects and the methods for dealing with them that accompany his technical reports and medical recommendations. The double value of our combined work gained a considerable reputation in a very short time and increased both of our incomes considerably. I wonder if that would have happened so quickly if they had known that his co-author was that young."  
  
"You were writing professional papers when you were thirteen 'but' you're not a genius?"  
  
"That's right; just an over achiever. What else could I be raised by a super genius father and then passed on to a whole commune of them. When I started collaborating with Syrus, I was finishing my first degrees in sociology, psychology and pre-med. I now have Masters and PhD's in the first two and my Masters in psychiatry. I was almost three quarters done with the Doctorate in psychiatry when I dropped my studies to do the outside work for the escape."  
  
Riddick tried to imagine what that must have been like. He couldn't get a handle on it.  
  
"That had to be strange, going to college when almost everyone else your age was in grade school. How did the other students take it?"  
  
"I don't know how they might have reacted. I never spent one hour on a campus or in a class room; never saw a professor face to face. I was self-study and did my work assignments and tests by data link. My work with Syrus and with children in Institute counseling served as my therapy internships and my pre-psychiatric medical internship. My psychiatric internship consisted of being assigned six cases in the local state institution. I was given their files, assigned a therapy room and was allowed to have as many vid taped sessions with each one as I felt necessary and any medical tests I required before writing my evaluations and recommendations. I received my certification papers by mail.  
  
"Since proceeding at my own rate and on my own schedule was very beneficial, none of it bothered me until the psychiatric internship. Such internships always require the intern to undergo his own analysis with a fully licensed member of the staff. I asked Mr. Sen why I hadn't. His answer was a true revelation for me. The Psychiatric Certification Board had waved that requirement because they couldn't find anyone among their qualified members who would agree to do it. In his opinion, which I value highly, they were all terrified that I would somehow reverse the roles on them and it would be their deepest secrets that would be revealed rather than mine; that they would turn up as subject material in some later thesis of mine. Basically, my fellow therapists treat me like an alchemist treated his daemon; very useful but only when safely confined within its pentagram."  
  
The tone of her voice and the expression on her face had become increasingly bitter during this last piece of her story. In Riddick's opinion, she had a right. Her colleagues treated her the same way people treated him. A contract killer and a contract shrink; now that was a combination to draw to. Suddenly he understood why the Company and the Forces would be as interested in her as in the others. What was it Ben had said ..... behavior modification ..... translate that 'brain washing' and 'interrogation techniques'. Fuck! She had lied to Jeeter. She wouldn't hang if they were caught. She would be a big prize to the military. But she wouldn't be caught. She 'would' kill herself before she let them use her that way. He had never really believed that suicide earring thing before. Now, he knew that it was a deadly certainty that she would use it. That thought hurt; it damn near tore him apart. He didn't want to analyze that; didn't want to know why. He changed the subject.  
  
"Well if you aren't a company shrink, what are you?"  
  
She rewarded him with a small smile.  
  
"I'm the 'Caretaker Child' in a somewhat disfunctional family. Or maybe .. I'm the 'Mother' to Mr. Sen's 'Father'. I've never really decided."  
  
Riddick had to laugh at that one.  
  
"Caretaker, sure, but you're also the Peace Maker. So, who's the Baby? Ben or Sasha? And what is Syrus? The Delinquent? Jeff is definitely a jealous and abusive older sibling but not the Punisher. Maybe the Overachiever but inadequate for the role. And David ... silent and withdrawn, the Shadow but probably the real Overachiever."  
  
The small smile became a very pleasant grin.  
  
"You're totally on target with Jeff and David. Ben is the Baby. Sasha is an attention seeker, more specifically the Whiner. Syrus .... well, yes, he is a type of the Delinquent; the Runaway. He's the one who tells everyone he's an orphan. But, oddly enough, he is sometimes a Caretaker, too. ........ "  
  
She went silent. Riddick's first thought was that she had suddenly realized how much she was telling him that could be unethical to share. Consequently, he was taken completely by surprise when she continued speaking.  
  
"When you wouldn't let me see the titles of the library books you were returning .... I thought they might be things like 'Poison Through the Ages' or 'Sabotage For Fun and Profit', technical manuals, maybe mysteries or crime stories. I know, I know, stereotyping at its worst. Now, I know better. You recognized the significance of the names of the ships, you are knowledgeable in Space Law and have just demonstrated a knowledge in the psychology of the disfunctional family. So enlighten me further. What do you read?"  
  
The sharp look in her eyes left Riddick no doubt that she expected some payback for the information she had been giving him. It was the same look she had given Jeeter when she was talking to him about 'trust'. If he didn't give her something in return, she was going to shut down communications. The problem was that he wasn't sure that he could let down his barriers just a little but no more under the influence of hyper. He'd already slipped up several times. Still, he didn't really have any choice.  
  
"Non-fiction mostly; everything but Religion. Yeah, and lot of shrink stuff. I like to keep ahead of the yoyos. Fiction? The classics. When I was a kid, I liked mythology and fairy tales. But not much fiction lately. My eyes don't allow me much reading time so I have to make choices."  
  
"Why not audio books?"  
  
"A merc traced me that way once. The only reason that real books are safe is that no librarian would admit to letting them out of the building. They'd be fired. If I can't get that favor in a fairly short time, I find another library."  
  
From anyone else, he would have read the look she gave him as pity. From her it was empathy.  
  
"Once your eyes are corrected, you are going to have a wonderful time in the library and my private collection. But if you read Mythology and Philosophy you should read Religion. I could never understand why they were in separate sections. Religion is just mythology that is still believed and all three provide a study of human psychology at its deepest levels. The image of God that man creates doesn't define God, it defines man. The evolution of a religion throughout its history is a perfect side reference to the history of the society surrounding it."  
  
"Don't you believe in God?"  
  
His question surprised him as much as it did her. She was solemnly quiet for a time. The longer she was quite, the more important what she was going to say became to him. He didn't know why. He had spent a lot of energy avoiding this kind of conversation with Iman. Maybe that was it. All his life people had been preaching God at him, a God he couldn't do anything but hate. Someone as smart as she was who said that mythology and their damn God belonged on the same shelf just might be able to give him the words that could kill the fucker.  
  
"I believe that there is an existence after this. It's a natural law that energy is never lost; transformed but not lost. The energy that tells me I exist and that I am an unique existence must follow that same law. I believe that this existence is not a random accident, that there is purpose to it. Even the roll of die isn't random if you take a large enough sample. If there is purpose then there must be consciousness, intelligence. That is as far as I will presume to define God."  
  
Riddick didn't want God defined. He wanted him dead.  
  
"What purpose? Torture? Does the fuck take sadistic pleasure at what he does to us? Tell me the purpose for a baby being thrown away like trash as soon as he was born? The purpose of letting him survive that but never giving him a chance for a normal life but making him smart enough to know what he hasn't got? The purpose of letting him be turned into the perfect killing machine but giving him enough conscience to know what he's become? Or the first time he really tries to follow that conscience`sending him to Slam to cover a gold braid sell out?"  
  
Riddick suddenly realized how much he was telling her. Most people would have quailed at the vicious snarl that escaped him. She didn't. Her expression was questioning and .... and thoughtful! Did this child-woman, raised in a luxury filled ivory tower, studying his kind, studying him through a computer terminal think that she had any idea of what his life had been like? Was she seriously going to try and give him some naive platitudes that would justify all that ugliness and pain. He softened his tone but let his anger strike out at her anyway. Let her explain away her own pain. Maybe then, just maybe, she might have something to say that he could stomach listening to.  
  
"What was the purpose of giving you a life so lonely that you'd even talk to something like me, much less let me touch you? What was his purpose when he killed your family?"  
  
The way her body tensed he knew he had hit his target. Then she spoke and he found out just how totally wrong he was about that.  
  
"Since we are here, together, logic would dictate that both of our 'tortures' have prepared us to serve the same purpose ..... at least in this particular place and time. After the events of the past few hour, you can't deny that for all the differences in our previous lives we seem to have developed into very similar creatures in many ways; most of them not acceptable under current moral and social values. As for who is lowering themself to touch whom, compare our lives. I was very much the easier of us to mold, now wasn't I. It may be you are the one who is dancing with the devil."  
  
She paused for a moment and then continued in the same soft, comforting voice.  
  
"There's an old fable about Christ and the Devil; when the Devil tempted Christ in the wilderness. After Jesus had resisted all of the temptations, Lucifer smiled lovingly at him and said, 'I am the root of your existence and I am the goad that has forced you to your magnificent purity.' Jesus kissed Lucifer and murmured 'Father.' ..... Haven't you noticed that people who have had an easy life, people who haven't suffered, are very seldom of much value. It's the pain and the effort of conquering it that make us strong. Who knows, perhaps we are the ones that God loves the most and the ones with easy lives are the ones he has given up on; the ones who can never be anything more than what they are already. ...... At least, that's what I tell myself when it gets too painful."  
  
Now it was Riddick's turn to be lost in his own thoughts. What she had said was like the stuff Iman was always preaching at him but not like it at all. Iman always sounded like he was quoting truth carved in stone and his unbending certainty irritated Riddick. Sometimes it pissed him off royally. What Jenna said wasn't stone truths. It was her thoughts, her reasons; thoughts and reasons that felt as comfortable in his mind as his own did. And there was no certainty; well, not the unquestioning kind that Iman had. She had found a level of peace about it that Riddick had never known but she was still searching as much as he was. And .... her God was just as dark as Riddick's was but she was playing the odds that he had righteous reasons for being that way. Riddick found something in that idea that he could grab onto. He wasn't about to put his money down on it but it was worth thinking about.  
  
But he would think about that later. What occupied his first attention now was what she had said about them, most particularity about herself. He could understand how she could think that there was some resemblance between them but he knew better. She didn't know who he really was; he did. The only way to correct that was to tell her who he was. But before he could do that, he had to find a way to make himself stop wanting her.  
  
He held her tighter. She leaned her head into his chest and her free hand slipped under the vest to lay easy over his heart. They sat like that, silent but together somehow; connected on some level that Riddick couldn't understand. He couldn't understand it and that should have bothered him. But it didn't and that should have bothered him even more. But it didn't. He put the brakes on this endless cycle of 'should have' and 'didn't' and allowed himself to sink into the warm pleasure of this totally alien experience. After all, it was just hyper intoxication, wasn't it? 


	17. Chapter 17 Identity and Trust

Author notes:  
  
First, as always, my extreme gratitude to those wonderful and loyal people who review. Anyone who wishes to engage in a dialogue, a deeper discussion of TML or anything else for that matter, feel free to use the e-mail address on my profile page to contact me. I am very interested in your images, attitudes and opinions of the people.  
  
Second, aaahhhhh the relief, this chapter is the final one in the initial escape. We will finally reach day two. I promise most heartily that time will return to a more normal pace.  
  
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THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 17 - Identity and Trust  
  
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Jenna had been watching the nav display. It had been rather disturbing to find out that it was only a simulation, that there wasn't any navigation occurring. They were 'riding the pipe', being carried through hyper by something similar to an underwater current in an ocean. All the hyper drive engines were doing was maintaining the constant acceleration designated for this particular jump. Their location on the plot display was where they ought to be at this elapsed time of the journey. Where they really were only God could say precisely; only God and Jenna.  
  
She was a pathfinder .... make that 'Pathfinder!'. She couldn't think of anything in her life that had given her the astonishing rush of pure joy that his comment that 'she' could navigate if she wanted had given her. OK, his calling her 'his' little pathfinder had doubled the thrill but finally realizing what being a pathfinder meant was the initial lift off.  
  
While snuggled in his lap, the physical part of her concentrating on absorbing every detail of that experience, another part of her was equally concentrated on studying the energy that flowed around her. In a very short time reading the flux of the walls of energy, she became convinced that she actually could navigate in hyper. However, she couldn't do it with the present configuration of the ship's hyper system. It was nothing but a straight acceleration system. To navigate in hyper, drives and controls would need to be added that would bring it into the same configuration as the Keller drive. The BC would also have to receive the same upgrades. It wouldn't be wise to risk the mother ship in first run exploration. It was a 'David, Jeff, I have a project for you.' situation.  
  
While all this was going on, a third part of her mind was analyzing the interaction between herself and the man before he had retreated into this comfortable silent communion. She had been aware from the first that she was not experiencing hyper in the same manner that he was. She had the same heightening of sensation and emotion but had not suffered any lost of impulse control. It seemed that as far as hyper was concerned, she was a 'sober drunk'. While her personal revelations to him had been totally conscious and intentional, his had been driven by his subconscious. She was totally astonished at what it had chosen to reveal. Consciously, he might still distrust her as much as he did everyone else but his subconscious had other ideas.  
  
From what Ben had said during the discussion of the 'pay-back' programming, he had to have described the whole of Jenna's connection with the work of prison personnel in her field and also her special interest in one certain prisoner. If her companion had been in control of himself, he would never have given her the personal information he had blurted out. So, now she knew and knew also that her instincts, her intuition had not failed her. But what to do about it?  
  
She was still considering this when her swiftly developing hyper-sense told her that something was changing. Only a few seconds later the nav console bleeped out its warning that they were approaching the transition back into normal space. He lifted her so easily and placed her in his lap in the same position as when they had entered hyper. She adjusted the console, checked that the ship's shields had activated and prepared to assume control from the auto nav. She called up the system chart. New Mecca was in the perfect third planet position around a nearly perfect Sol type star. The few instructions he gave her were spoken in a soft whisper, his mouth very close to her ear.  
  
As soon as they made the transition, he directed her to plot for the smallest, farthest-out moon of the sixth planet and set an orbit around it. But these instructions were spoken in a weary but normal voice. He had leaned back in the slot, no longer holding her against him. Worse than that, as she felt the ebb of the hyper energy, she felt the strange but wonderful bond that had formed between them also weakening.   
  
She kicked the Keller drive and entered the system so hot that had the Hole not been shielded she would have gotten a very heavy dressing down and fine for it from the system's Traffic Control. In the short time it took to reach her target and set orbit, the communion between them was nothing more than a very thin and delicate thread. As she finished setting the auto and closing down the console, she made her decision. She had no choice but to continue as if nothing had changed. He would have to willingly reveal who he was and she would have to wait for that.  
  
She pushed the console away and stood.  
  
"Up, Riddle. We have to wake Syrus and get on with it. We can sleep in the Quizzler chambers."  
  
He struggled up, looking as exhausted as she felt.  
  
"I told you that you're not getting the surgery until I am sure it's ok."  
  
Exhaustion didn't seem to effect his stubbornness.  
  
"That was before. Now, I have to get to a hacker system as soon as possible. I trust Syrus about this and you are going to have to find a way to trust that. Put a message on the main view screen telling Jeeter and Ben not to leave the bridge or let anyone else on it until we return. I'll be trying to find the strength to change into a duty uniform. Why didn't you tell me that coming out made you feel like a boiled noodle?"  
  
He didn't answer until she was almost through the lounge hatch.  
  
"I forgot about hyper doing that. It gets better the more jumps you make."  
  
My goodness, he actually sounded a bit apologetic about that lapse. Coupled with the fact that he hadn't given her further argument about the eye surgery, it suggested to her that the closeness that they had developed in hyper wasn't completely gone. As she dressed, waited for him to complete his uniform and then led him through the ship to Syrus' infirmary, she drew a great deal of strength from this.  
  
Even at that, by the time Syrus finally finished his examination of Riddle's prison shine, she was ready to fall on her face. She hadn't even had the energy to have anything but a mental reaction to his description of the barbaric method in which it had been preformed. Under normal circumstances, she would probably have run from the room in sick horror. Finally, she was called on to supply the choice of Riddle's new eye color. She thanked providence that she had already made that decision.  
  
"The same color chart as mine but the darkest sample; the almost black green. I can't remember what it's called."  
  
"Black Forest."  
  
Syrus supplied this information as he held the color chart up to Riddle's face to make his own judgement.  
  
"Yes. Actually quite pleasant esthetically. On the table, if you will, First."  
  
Syrus didn't bat an eye as Riddle's dagger rig clinked against the metal rim of the table. He was also dressed in his proper duty uniform with a black lab apron added. Jenna noted this show of his support as she summoned the energy to voice a concern of her own.  
  
"The shine? Will it be completely gone? No beautiful silver at all?"  
  
It seemed that simple exhaustion had a much greater effect on her impulse control than hyper. Syrus gave her a sardonic smirk.  
  
"I couldn't eliminate the shine in very dark conditions but I usually give it a pastel of the color chart chosen. Since you so obviously prefer the silver, my dear, I wouldn't think of giving you anything else. But First should make that decision for his."  
  
Syrus was playing games again. But Riddle had his number.  
  
"Cats' eyes aren't my style, Doc. Not scary enough. I'll stick with the silver."  
  
This got Riddle a smirk of approval from Syrus. Would miracles never cease. There was another such smirk when Riddle refused anything but the local medications. This having opened the subject of the hyper-cryo-stunner question, while Syrus preformed the surgery, there was a running conversation between him and Riddle on this subject. Jenna was called upon occasionally to make comments. Oddly enough, she had become so fascinated with the surgery that she was a bit irritated at these interruptions of her concentration. This fascination didn't carry over when it was time for her own surgery. She took the sensory deadening drugs, fell asleep before they were fully effective and awoke seven hours later as Syrus released her from the healing chamber. Her eyes were still covered but she found out immediately that Riddle was already up and busy. His deep rumble was extremely nice to wake up to.  
  
"Jeeter and Ben are awake and working on that little glitch in the main computer. All the rest are still sleeping. How do you feel?"  
  
A quick check gave Jenna surprising results. She felt better than she could remember ever having felt on awakening.  
  
"Fantastic. And you? Are you seeing, yet? Is it everything Syrus promised?"  
  
"Yes. But my memories are over eleven years old. I'm easy to please."  
  
Syrus hurumphed.  
  
"Such lavish and uninhibited praise is overwhelming. Except for a slight farsightedness, a condition I was 'not' informed of, your vision tested on the high edge of normal in every way. Your night vision capability is better than any subject I have had; presumably because of your previous experience with it. Now,... unless the two of you have more important business, I would like to see how Jenna tests."  
  
"Go for it. I want to see what color her eyes are."  
  
"I showed you the chart."  
  
"Not the same, Doc. Not the same at all."  
  
Syrus put a period to this exchange with an almost pleasant chuckle and began removing the protective bandaging over Jenna's eyes. Jenna was stunned. That particular chuckle was Syrus' way of signaling his acceptance of someone. She could count the number of people who, to her knowledge, had received it on one hand and still had fingers left over. She and Mr. Sen were the only members of the group so honored. It didn't save you from his snarky wit; only signified that you were a worthy opponent instead of simple target practice. Only Ben and David were exempt from persecution. He might become irritated with them but never snarky. A capacity for compassion, abet a very small one, did exist in Syrus.  
  
"Which do you want to see first, Jenna? Day or night?"  
  
"I don't know. .... Wait! Yes I do. I want to see day first and then ... then I want to watch it very slowly turn into night."  
  
"Ah, at last, a connoisseur. This calls for better surroundings. First, if you will, assist Jenna and follow me."  
  
Riddle didn't bother with trying to lead her. He gathered her into his arms and carried her. Ooooou, life was better than she ever dreamed it could be. After a fairly short walk and a set of stairs, he set her down on a well cushioned piece of furniture that seemed to be some sort of lounger.  
  
"Where are we?"  
  
It was Syrus that answered her.  
  
"My medicinal plant garden." He placed something palm-sized, metallic and box shaped in her hand. "I presume that First can manage to remove the last layer of bandage. This control is set for 'noon'. You can change it to any time of day you desire for as long as you desire. I recommend sunset. Have fun."  
  
Jenna felt his presence withdraw and, after a short time, heard the sound of a hatch closing. What game was he playing?   
  
"Is this normal for him?"  
  
"No. I should be reading eye charts by now."  
  
"That's what I thought. .... Are you ready for this?"  
  
"You're the one who can see. Am I?"  
  
"Maybe. This place is a garden about the same way that the Taj Mahal is a tomb. Just how rich are you people?"  
  
"As a group, filthy. All right, I'm prepared. Take the bandage off."  
  
Jenna knew that Syrus' 'garden' was extensive. His lab area was 'T' shaped, the top level extending to take half of the second stories of both Ben's and David's labs. It served a vital function in the air and water purification systems of the ship. She also knew that its lighting and atmospheric systems had been quite expensive. None of this information prepared her for what she saw as Riddle, standing behind her, lifted the bandage.  
  
Riddle had been right on with his comparison to the Taj Mahal. She was sitting in a grassy clearing in an endless expanse of lush bushes and plants. Many were profusely blooming and the myriad of colors were dazzling. Outside of what she knew to be the limits of the garden, it seemed to continue and turn into a forest of large trees. The overhead seemed to be a noon sky complete with totally realistic clouds and sun. Looking at the control, she found that she could not only set the time of the twenty-four hour cycle she wanted but also the weather conditions that would please her. She could even get gently rained on it she wanted or watch a distant thunder storm. Instead of the usual stainless steel, coldly regimented hydroponics, Syrus had created a Garden of Eden. More surprising, he seemed to have temporarily assigned the roles of Adam and Eve to Riddle and herself. Neither were something that she would ever have expected from Syrus. She thought that last was a very interesting idea.  
  
"How are the eyes?"  
  
Riddle's question pulled her back to the initial purpose. She concentrated on seeing rather than what she was seeing. There was a difference. Things real had a different texture than the extended images. Things living had a different texture from things dead. Thought the rich, sharply defined colors of the brocade that covered the lounger were still beautiful, they lacked some subtle essence that seemed to radiate from the living flowers. She felt that she had never seen so clearly before. It took much of the magic out of Syrus' garden but it would put magic into any planet side scenery. It would also add very useful depths of knowledge about any situation she might find herself caught in; a more that fair trade.  
  
She gave Riddle her impressions. The tone of his one word agreement told her that the time elapsed since he had last had 'normal' vision had given him some doubts about his judgement. She dialed the sunset. At first she was disappointed but then found that if she relaxed her concentration, became reflective, most of the magic of it returned. Her soft murmur of pleasure caught Riddle's attention.  
  
"How?"  
  
"Stop studying it. Just let it be there."  
  
His hand squeezed her shoulder as he discovered the trick of it. She wished that it was him she was leaning against instead of the back of the lounge. After a time, he prodded her again.  
  
"Try night."  
  
She dialed night and full moon, then quarter moon and finally moonless. It was amazing. Even on the moonless night setting, with only pinpricks of simulated stars providing any illumination she could see well enough to distinguish individual plants and objects. She dialed out the stars. She could still pick out living from dead in this pitch black.  
  
"Is this like your shine was?"  
  
"Better."  
  
She brought them back to daylight very suddenly and her eyes seemed to adjust to the light much quicker than they had been able to before but she felt Riddle start.  
  
"A problem?"  
  
"Not really. Past experience. A change like that would have made me helpless. Even my eyelids wouldn't cut enough of it to keep it from hurting like .... from hurting. Now what?"  
  
"Now I want to see you."  
  
As he came around from in back of her, she shifted so that he could sit on the lounger facing her. As he faced her, Jenna felt a tremor of fear. She closed her eyes and turned away. With gentle fingers, he caressed her cheek and forced her face back to his.  
  
"Open your eyes, sweet thing. You picked the color for me so you're just going to have to get used to it."  
  
Oh, God! He was being so kind. She forced her eyes open. She could still read what lay behind the eyes. His desire for her was real. It wouldn't be forever but, for now, it was real. Like iron to a magnet she slowly leaned toward him.  
  
"Your eyes are beautiful, sweet thing. Light greens and blues, all shifting an swirling; deep water on a bright calm day."  
  
"Yours are the same only so dark; night and storming; black waves with green crests."  
  
"Make it night."  
  
She dialed moonless once more. No, not moonless. Two moons. Two beautiful silver moons that drew her closer and closer. Her lips parted of their own will as they neared his. Then the hand holding her face shifted. His thumb caressed her lips blocking them from reaching his.  
  
"I thought you wanted a hacker system as soon as possible?"  
  
An awful thought battered Jenna's mind. He hadn't kissed her except in hyper. He wasn't one of the weak ones who allowed their dicks to make decisions for them. She would have drawn away but he increased the force of his hold on her face just enough to tell her that he didn't want her to do that.  
  
"And you're anxious to see your friends, of course. Will I get to meet them?"  
  
"Yes. One of them is your hacker. There's something I have to tell you before that. It might as well be now."  
  
NO! Not this way. Please, not this way.  
  
"Don't! You don't have to. You see them first. Tell them to call you Riddle, Barrol; I don't care. Tell them not to trust me."  
  
She pulled her face from his grasp and kissed him. She begged him with the passion of her mouth to leave things as they were. To wait until he truly wanted to tell her.  
  
She felt his fingers twisting her hair and the pain as he jerked her away from him and held her in an unnatural arc.  
  
"How long have you known?!?!?"  
  
It was the snarl of a cornered beast.  
  
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It took only seconds for conscious thought to catch up with habitual reaction but the damage had already been done. Riddick felt like the shit that Jeeter had accused him of being. He was ready to trust her, to tell her. What did it matter if she knew already? It mattered because, depending on when and, more importantly, how she knew, that trust could change. He did ease his hold on her and allow her to settle into a more comfortable position as he waited for her answer.   
  
"I'm sure that Ben told you of my special interest in you, how comprehensively I have studied your files. The similarities started piling up from the beginning. But it was impossible. You were dead. I tried to mark it off as a result of the criteria that I had given Mr. G but they just kept building. When I discovered that the perfect fit Ben had found for the pocket you had added to the back of my belt was a copy of one of your shivs, I thought I was going crazy.  
  
"It was what you told me during the jump that really gave you away. Only Richard B. Riddick fit the description you gave of your history."  
  
"Give me the details."  
  
"Very few inmates come to slam from military courts; basically only those who insist on escaping the military facilities at every chance. I was making a particular study of them when I encountered your records. Yours was the only history in the group that included being trashed shortly after birth. The closest to it were one man who had been abandoned at three days old when his mother fled the hospital without him and another who had been taken by the authorities after being beaten and tortured to near death at six months of age."  
  
Riddick still wasn't satisfied.  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you knew?"  
  
He could see the heat of embarrassment creeping up her face.  
  
"I wanted you to choose to tell me yourself."  
  
Oh, Shit. Riddick really hoped that this wasn't some emotional woman thing. Being in lust with each other was one thing, a very enjoyable thing. The 'L' word wasn't. In fact, it wasn't even in Riddick's vocabulary; hadn't ever been there.  
  
"Then why didn't you want me to tell you now?"  
  
"I wanted you to trust me enough to do it; not be forced into it because of our need for a hacker system."  
  
Riddick felt a swell of relief. Trust was acceptable.  
  
"If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have brought you here in the first place. Any more questions?"  
  
Her shine suddenly looked like illuminated pinwheels. Now what was that?  
  
"Yes, one. When I'm doing all that moaning at the appropriate times, do you prefer Richard or Rick?"  
  
Now, that was the way he liked her, brazen and sassy.  
  
"Your choice."  
  
He pulled her to him and lowered his face to kiss her. His lips met finger tips instead of other lips. Now he knew what the pinwheels meant. He should have known that it wouldn't be that easy. She might have doubts about one thing but the rest of her was pure steel. Nor could he could blame her for setting him back. It was still a matter of trust. She had given him hers and he had returned that with a ........ damn you, Riddick! Put the word to it. Admit that she was right about that ...... He had returned her trust with a paranoid attack. She had her right to pay-back.  
  
"But as you said, we do have other important things to think about now. I need to get Syrus' tests out of the way. You need to see how things are going on the bridge and prepare the BC for our journey to New Mecca."  
  
No, he didn't blame her but that didn't mean he wasn't going to test her will power.  
  
"Not even one kiss? Just for luck."  
  
Oh, Riddick, how far can you sink? But it worked. The fingers disappeared. When his lips touched hers she responded. 'Responded'...... oh, yeah ..... It hadn't been the hyper before. If anything, this was even better. It was so hot, so fine. He captured her lower lip; nipping it with his teeth, caressing it with his tongue. She teased his upper lip with her tongue; slipping behind it, laving both its inner side and his teeth with the same hungry strokes.  
  
He sucked her tongue into his mouth. After a few moments of surrendering to him, she changed the game. She took top. She began thrusting into his mouth. Without thinking he tightened and relaxed his lips in rhythm with her thrusts. He began using his tongue; mimicking what she had done to him in hyper; returning the same pleasure to her. Some part of him was shocked. This wasn't natural. It was.... It was ........ Oh, fuck!! ..... This side of it was making him burn just as much as the other had.  
  
He shoved his hands under her long vest; running them over the strong curves of her back and butt, along the smooth lines of her thighs. She felt like no woman he had ever know. The 'honest' women of the outer planets were hard muscles and work-driven thin. Their sisters who made their living on their backs were lush but soft muscled. Jenna was the best of both. Lush under his hands while her arms, wrapped around his ribs and upward across his back, and her hands, fingers clutching and kneading his shoulders, had the strength to give him pleasure-pain like he had never experienced it before. There would be no cat marks; finger tip bruises would be her brand.  
  
She broke her mouth away from his. Her arms moved from around his chest to his neck. Leaning back, she offered him her throat. Tender, smooth, vulnerable throat. He closed his mouth on the artery; felt the hard surges of her blood through the wall of that 'line of life'. She inhaled with a gasp then released that breath in a passionate moan. It was like ice and then fire against his ear and cheek. Fuck this half body clinch. He wanted her whole body; wanted it stretched out against his, under his. He started to shift their position. The rigs attached to their belts snagged on each other; tangled.  
  
He reached to separate them. As he touched cold steel and hard leather, his mind sobered almost the same as it had in hyper. Then, it had been a matter of his ego. Now, ..... now it was something else. "One kiss" .... it had been just a 'line', hadn't it?. He looked into her eyes. She would have him. There was no doubt of it. It was there in her sunshine sea eyes. But there was also something else; something deeper, core deep. "One kiss" .... it had been his word given. She had turned his test of her into her own test of him. He untangled the rigs, stood and pulled her up to stand beside him. Then, without a word spoken between them, he led her to the hatch of the infirmary. But as he turned away from her there to see to the bridge and the BC, she laid a gentle hand on his arm.  
  
"Thank you ....... Rick."  
  
Then she was gone; leaving only the soft echo of her words in his ears, the image of her face back-lit by joy and the sweet smell of her on his skin. There was also a painful ache for her in a great deal more of his anatomy that just the part between his legs. He didn't know what to think about that. Part of him wanted it in the same way his eyes now craved color and light. But, another part wanted to deny it, run from it at the speed of hyper. It was too much to deal with fresh like this. He pushed it back into the recesses of his mind to peculate and ripen; replaced it with something safer.  
  
Now, that name .... Rick. It wasn't a name he had ever used; not as a nick-name, not as a alias. It wouldn't have been his choice of the two. He spoke it aloud as he walked toward the bridge. Its single syllable was strong, hard, sharp like a shiv. It echoed off the bulkheads of the gangway like a ricochet. Yet, on her lips, it had been a caress. Damn. He liked it. It felt right. To bad it was too close to his real name to keep.  
  
As he walked onto the bridge, he spotted Jeeter and Ben both ass up in the guts of the main computer console.  
  
"What's the condition here and on the BC?"  
  
They both jumped at the sound of his voice but didn't miss a beat in whatever they were doing to the console's wiring. Ben was the one who answered him.  
  
"We've got a tarantula. But I think it's only the Hole involved. I've already look at the BC and it's clean of the hardware a tarantula needs. That makes sense. The BC never had anything but its own data as a pod transport. Its main is rather stupid. As soon as I can disconnect the shit here. I'll be able to find the programming and get rid of it."  
  
"Spy-ware that needs hardware?"  
  
The look Ben threw over his shoulder was priceless. It was like a college professor trying to figure out how to tell something to a kindergartner. Riddick couldn't take offence because in this case the comparison was accurate.  
  
"Just try, Ben."  
  
"Ok. Think of most spy-ware as a web spider; leaves threads, trails in the programming. No matter how subtle they are, you can always find a thread if you're good enough. A tarantula's trails are hidden in the hardware instead. Programmers and debuggers aren't into the hardware side at all. That makes the tarantula invisible to them. The disadvantage, and why it is very rare to run into one, is that you can't do it by remote. Somebody has to fiddle with the plumbing. But, once the hardware is in, it takes care of the rest. Activate the main and you activate the tarantula hardware. It pulls in its programming in the same manner it sends the data out."  
  
"Someone got access to the Hole?"  
  
"No. I built this main. The tarantula is in a sealed unit that I only had to plug in. The seal wasn't broken until I just did. This altered chip was installed at the factory. As soon as I make sure the programming is clean I'll start tracing the part numbers."  
  
"How long will it take to clean it?"  
  
"I don't know. It's a tiny thing, basically just a search and find and really hard and very time consuming to find among the legitimate ones. I'll have to open the com and wait for them to ask it for something."  
  
"What?!"  
  
"Not to worry. I've cut its trans capabilities. All it can do is receive. When it does, it will stand out like cherry on a chocolate sundae."  
  
"Do you have to cut the ships shielding to open the com?"  
  
"Not for receiving. But I will to do the parts search."  
  
"Then don't. The shielding has to stay in place until Jenna and I get back."  
  
This got both Ben's and Jeeter's attention. Jeeter took over the conversation. The idea of Riddick and Jenna going off alone together didn't seem to set well with him.  
  
"Back from where?"  
  
"New Mecca."  
  
"Why go there?"  
  
"To use a hacker system. We need to find out what happen back on Derius 4 after we left."  
  
Now Ben chimed in.  
  
"You should take Jeeter with you. He's three times the hacker that Jen is."  
  
Much to Jeeter's surprise, Riddick agreed to this idea immediately. His feelings outside of Syrus' infirmary were pushed aside but not forgotten. He needed time. A third person on the bridge of the BC, especially the suspicious little weasel/guardian angel, during the trip to and from New Mecca would insure that he got that time. 


	18. Chapter 18 New Mecca

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 18 -   
  
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Jeeter was getting a really sore ass. If they were gonna do very mucha this skimmer shit, he was gonna demand a jump seat. Not only was the floor plates ah the storage area hard steel, Lady was hedge hopping at full speed 'cross one devil's spine after another and slide slipping through the gullies. Thank the Blessed Mother, he'd had the chance to get something for his stomach outa the BC's med locker before they left it.  
  
Thinking about the BC gave him a real warm feeling inside. He'd thought she was nothing but a slab and gantry tail stander. But coming down, she'd turned into the sweetest little belly flopper he'd every seen. Once she got enough atmosphere to bite, she handled like a skimmer, came down flat and easy in a slot no bigger than she was. And not a sign ah it on the outside until you needed it. The things a raider could do with a sweet piece like her.  
  
Lady made another violent maneuver and Jeeter tightened his hold on the cargo net. Damn Barrol! How did he do that? Sitting there all calm, cool and easy; his body matching the skimmer's moves like he was just another piece ah the thing. And what was going on between him and Lady? Oh, they was polite to each other and that was the thing. No teasing, no smart-ass remarks from Barrol, no special voice for him from Lady. They weren't fighting. They still had the same wanting looks for each other when the other wasn't looking. But all business and polite when they were.  
  
Maybe it was just because everything was so serious. They had a tracker and spy-ware on the Hole. Lady had come back from the infirmary wearing that damn earring again. Barrol was being forced to reveal one ah his safe places, risk some ah his friends getting pulled into this trouble. But there was something odd in Barrol's eyes when he looked at Lady; something that made Jeeter think that whatever was going on with 'em was personal. It also looked to Jeeter like the Big Guy was the one having trouble with it and that was funny as hell.  
  
What wasn't funny was finally being able to see Barrol's eyes. Jeeter had figured that it would be better than those look-back-at-yourself shades. He'd been wrong. Except for the brief flashes ah warm emotion directed at Lady's back, it was like looking into a midnight jungle; onyx and beryl with quick death hidden in the dark behind it. Now, Lady's were beautiful; like sea and sky all swirled together. Fit her better that the plain brown-green hazel that she'd been born with. But, then when you thought about it, so did Barrol's; fit him to a 'T'. And Lady had picked 'em out for him. Sheeze. Jeeter wondered if she saw the same thing in 'em that he did.  
  
Suddenly they were down and rolling along like a ground car. If the drop hadn't been hard enough on Jeeter's abused butt, the road they were on wasn't much better than a couple ah ruts in the ground with some gravel thrown in their direction. Lady was still driving hell bent for the horizon and, trying to adjust to this uneven terrain, the stabilizers were rocking the skimmer from side to side like a hooch dancers hips. Meds or no, if this didn't stop soon, he was going to puke. To his great relief, Lady began slowing down. A lota that relief disappeared when, topping a hill, Lady came to a complete halt then took the skimmer off ah the road and behind a cluster of trees.   
  
"Barrol, you better take a look at this. That peaceful, isolated compound we're supposed to be able to just walk into is surrounded by blips."  
  
As Barrol shifted over, Jeeter moved to look over Lady's other shoulder. Holy Mother Mary, it looked like a fire-fly convention. His stomach problem disappeared. Funny how that always happen to him when the enemy was spotted.  
  
"All those cars, damn, they gota have a full regiment around the place."  
  
"Not cars, Jeeter. I set the scan for infra-red at human-normal range. We have forty men. From the movements I've observed, half are coming in from the outside and replacing the other half in a perimeter around the main residence. I would speculate that it's a siege situation but these are your friends, Barrol, it's your call."  
  
Barrol didn't react, just kept looking at the security screen. Jeeter knew this one. Let the enemy get settled in. Let him get nice and comfortable watching his target. Then, slither around to his backside and do him. The blips cooperated. The incoming matched up with those already there. For a minute or two nothing moved. Then, blips started moving out. They gathered in four groups on the far side of the compound and began disappearing. Lady fiddled with the keyboard. Four larger, blue blips appeared where the reds were grouped. As soon as all the reds disappeared, the blues began moving in a line away from the compound in the opposite direction from the skimmer.  
  
Ok. Now what? Even with half of 'em driving away, there was still twenty to deal with; one ah four at the front ah the place and eight sets ah two covering the other three sides. Jeeter held his tongue and waited for Barrol to decide what he wanted to do.  
  
"Odds are it 'is' a siege. But I need to make sure that it isn't protection. How close do you think you can get this thing without being spotted?"  
  
Lady worked the keyboard. A bunch of lines overlaid the screen; not a grid, like stacks of ovals and circles with lines wiggling around and between them. She pointed at a set ah lines snaking between where they were and were the blips were.  
  
"This is the scan we took from the BC to pinpoint the compound's location. If this gully is as wide and deep as it says it is, we should be able to use it to get within approximately a hundred yards of these sentries farthest at the back."  
  
"Go for it."  
  
Lady dropped back behind the ridge they had been sitting on and skimmed the ground until she connected with the gully. Turning and dropping into it, she finally set the skimmer down exactly as she had promised; the nearest set of reds only three hundred and twenty feet away. Barrol stripped the sword rig off his belt and stepped outa the skimmer. A new red blip appeared on the screen.  
  
"You two stay here."  
  
"Wait."  
  
She fished 'round in the console storage and handed Barrol a wrist strap. As he buckled it on, she did something on the scanner keyboard. Barrol's blip turned green. He flashed a wicked smile at her, pulled the cowl ah his cloak over his head and face and melted into the night without a sound. Jeeter had never seen anything so damn creepy in his whole life. He crossed himself before he realized he was doing it. He watched with Lady as the green blip approached the nearest pair ah reds.  
  
The green stopped just short ah the reds. Seconds passed. Suddenly the green moved. It seemed to merge with the reds. The scanner went crazy, flashing back and forth between the colors like a strobe. Then it stopped its St. Vitus dance and there was only green. More seconds passed. The green moved, heading to the next set ah reds. A single red remained where there'd been two.  
  
"What's wrong with the scanner, Lady?"  
  
"Nothing. He just dropped the second corpse on top of the first. He's also not sharing well with others."  
  
She began digging in the storage box again. Oh, sweet Saviour, don't let her be planning on doing what he knew she was planning on doing. Barrol would kill him if he let Lady outa the skimmer. Oh, yeah, that's what she was going to do all right. She was buckling on a wrist band just like she'd given Barrol.  
  
"You ain't doing this, Lady."  
  
"Yes, I am. He may think he can do this by himself but if even one of them squeaks before dying, he's in trouble."  
  
Jeeter's thoughts skittered all over. Had to find a way to stop her.  
  
"If anyone's going out there, it's me. I done stuff like this before."  
  
"There isn't even a moon, Jeeter. I can see and you can't."  
  
"You ain't going!"  
  
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Jenna put the stunner back in its boot sheath. Crawling between the seats, she un-wedged Jeeter's head from between the side of the pilot seat and the skimmer door. She gently stretched him out on the deck of the storage compartment, making sure that his cape was wrapped around him. The night was rather cool. Jeeter had only been doing what he thought was best for her and didn't deserve to become sick because of it.  
  
Returning to the pilot seat, she pulled two more articles out of the storage comparting. One was a remote viewer for the security screen and the other was a remote control for the skimmer. Fastening the control securely to her belt, she activated the palm sized viewer and checked it against the console screen. When it proved accurate, she left the skimmer and headed, quickly but very quietly, toward Riddick's position.  
  
What was this anyway? A conspiracy to protect the poor stupid woman-child? She knew her limitations. While she had developed a goodly talent for open combat under the tutelage of Mr. Sen, she was totally untrained in swift and silent killing. She had no intention of interfering with Riddick; only observing him and staying close enough to back him if it did turn into an open battle.  
  
She tried to convince herself that was all that motivated her; the preservation of a needed asset. She didn't do a very good job of it. The truth wouldn't allow her to deny it. She wanted to see him kill; wanted to see the part of him that terrified all the rest of them; needed to know if it would terrify her as well. She had to know if this fixation she had on him was nothing more than that or if it was something deeper; something that would survive the brutal reality of what he was. Then a small voice within gigged her sharply. What if you glory in it?  
  
Putting these personal thoughts aside, she checked Riddick's location. By the storm of color at the second sentry position, he was in the process of eliminating it. She swung wide and approached the third. The idiots were chattering away to each other, their voices barely below normal volume. Obviously they expected no serious opposition to whatever they were here to do. Their attention was concentrated toward the lights of the compound with no thought to the dark expanse behind them nor the shrubberies, trees and other plantings separating them from their fellow sentries on either side. Their only visible weapons were swords similar to her own. They had no night vision goggles. Not a sophisticated operation in the least. She had no difficulty in approaching quite close.  
  
She melted deep into the shadows on the opposite side from where Riddick would come and took great care to conceal herself; not from the idiots, from Riddick. Her attention then turned to studying them. She didn't know the language but she didn't have to. Their body language, faces, tone of voice; everything about them spoke of cruelty and desolation of soul. Her internal alarms vibrated in agreement. These were very definitely 'not nice' men. It seemed that even a place as supposedly holy as New Mecca had its dregs and criminal under-belly.  
  
She didn't see nor hear Riddick. Something in her felt his presence. Moving nothing but her eyes, she located the odd lump of dead thing against the living earth and new growth that had to be his cape. Then she saw a brief glint of sliver eyes. Content with that, she waited patiently. Riddick moved, leaving the cape behind. Time seemed to alter. He was bare from the waist up; something, earth perhaps, darkening his skin and killing the shine. His massive muscles were bunched with the control he exerted over them. His right arm held across his chest, the flash of his shiv. His left arm extended slightly in front of him; long supple fingers spread, like talons to catch his prey. By all the names of God! He was so beautiful!  
  
He froze, semi crouched, for what seemed an eternity to Jenna. She drank in the sight of him. Then came the feral snarl; low, menacing snarl. The two men started. They tried to turn, rise and draw their weapons; all at the same time. Oh, but they were slow, so very pitifully slow. Eyes captured by the silver of his, their heads tilted upwards as he straightened; exposing their throats. His right arm extended slightly. His torso spun right. His wrist rotated. His torso turned back to the left. The arm returned to lay easily against his chest. He stepped back. Throats spurted blood. Hands clawed at them. Eyes widened in one last flare of surprise as death crawled over them. With hollow thumps, the bodies collapsed onto the ground.  
  
Riddick calmly knelt beside one of the bodies and cleaned his shiv with a piece of its robe. Slowly his head turned. Silver captured silver.  
  
"I told you to wait in the skimmer."  
  
Jenna jerked as time snapped violently back into its normal state. His deep, angry purr made her shiver. She used the only excuse that came to mind to cover her true motives.  
  
"Out agreement was for education. I wish to learn this."  
  
His sneer of disbelief gave her a second of warning.  
  
"Don't lie. You wanted to see the beast make his kill." Like a striking snake he stood, crossed to her, dragged her up and crushed her against him. "And don't try to make me believe that it didn't excite you. I can see it in your face."  
  
His face was filled with disgust. Jenna had fallen from her pedestal. Well, it was about time.  
  
"Yes, it excited me; the same as everything else about you excites me. The way you kill is exquisitely beautiful in form and perfection in skill. The result, the deaths; not exciting. At most, they are a disturbing necessity. Made less disturbing by the swift and humane way in which you accomplished them. While I doubt that I could ever achieve the level of skill that you have, I do need to have skill sufficient to deal with such a situation should it occur after our association is ended. Now, release me and show me a basic technique that will do for the rest of tonight's business."  
  
He set her away from him rather forcefully but reached out to steady her when he realized it. He no longer looked disgusted but he didn't look happy either. Obviously, Richard B. Riddick didn't like to be confused by people.  
  
"No."  
  
Jenna felt a tinge of sympathy for him. He wasn't accustomed to dealing with someone equally as complicated as he was. To make this a fair situation, she should hand him her psychological and history files and allow him the same many months to study them as she had taken to study his. She should but she wasn't about to.  
  
"Yes. There are four in the command post. Even you might suffer some injury against such odds. It would be a violation of our contract to risk yourself unnecessarily. You have five more sentry posts to teach me enough to at least deal with one of them."  
  
"No."  
  
"Then the contract is void."  
  
Jenna spun away from him and headed back toward the skimmer. She made it four steps before a rough hand fastened under her jaw and she was jerked roughly back against a hard chest. Her jaws were held closed in this vise. She couldn't have made a sound if she had wanted to. The edge of a hand was drawn heavily across her throat. It could just as easily been his shiv. As the full import of how hard she had pushed him hit her, Jenna's knees gave. Riddick sank down with her, cradling her against him.  
  
"Are you totally crazy, sweet thing, or do you really trust me that much?"  
  
"Both"  
  
"Fuck! ....... All right. Show me how you hold your blade."  
  
Instead of going for her dagger, Jenna wormed her hand between them and drew the shiv from the back of her belt.  
  
"No. Use the one you're most familiar with."  
  
"I am. Of course my practice with it was only what felt right. No one has written a methods manual for shivs."  
  
With a rumbling chuckle, Riddick's hand covered hers; checking her hold then the edge of the blade."  
  
"You hold it right and the thing is sharp enough. But you said it was one of mine. It's too small."  
  
"It's the one in the center of the display only cut down to fit my hand."  
  
"Hell, you are crazy. Let's get on with this. They could decide to start moving around any time."  
  
He stood lifting her with him and then stepped back to retrieve his cape. Jenna checked the security display.  
  
"No. They're all still in place."  
  
Riddick studied the display and then looked at her with a raised eyebrow.  
  
"Handy little gadget."  
  
To Jenna's great relief he turned and led the way toward the next sentry post without further comment. After the defiance she had already showed him, she had no desire to discuss the fact that she hadn't given him a display because she was certain that he had no intention of returning to the skimmer before starting something and she didn't want him to be able to discover what she was doing when she came after him. An open admission of how predictable his actions were to her wasn't something she wanted added to his list of her sins for this night.  
  
Riddick pointed out her target to her and she made her move in perfect coordination with his. That was the last perfect thing she did. Whether it was the nervous sweat on her hands or simply that it was her first such kill, her slash across the man's throat was angled wrong and too shallow. The jugular vein was opened but carotid artery beneath it and the trachea were untouched. He was bleeding out but could still breath and struggle. Feeling him begin to free himself, she made the only move her desperate mind offered. Dropping her shiv, she threw herself forward. Pining him with her own weight, she forced his face into the earth. If he bled out or smothered, she never knew. The next thing she remembered was Riddick whispering her name against her ear and gently lifting her off of the corpse. Her mind began to clear as she felt him place her shiv into its sheath.  
  
"I certainly botched it, didn't I?"  
  
Riddick's thumb stroked her cheek.  
  
"No. It wasn't by the book but it satisfied the orders. Target eliminated without giving alarm. I've seen experienced men miss a strike and not recover the situation as well as you did. Just remember that the trachea is the prime target. Silence no matter how long it takes to finish it. Next, the jugular. Those two will do the job. Hitting the carotid, cutting the blood supply to the brain immediately, ends it quicker but it takes a lot of strength to cut that deep. Just go for the basics to start. But, if you can talk, you can walk. Let's go for the others."  
  
Jenna stood ..... and immediately went to her knees. Sharp pain hit her in the temples and her body was vibrating in a tight palsy. She felt like a giant tuning fork. Riddick lifted her. Placing her arm around his neck and his around her back, he began maneuvering her like a giant walking-doll back the way they had come.  
  
"What's wrong with me?"  
  
"Adrenaline backlash. You have to walk it off or your muscles will lockup. You'll be fine in a few minutes."  
  
As they retraced their steps, Jenna puzzled over Riddick's change of attitude. She had expected her pitiful performance to illicit another attempt to force her return to the skimmer not a semi-positive critique and instruction for improvement. Now, he was delivering battlefield first-aid. And maybe that was the key to it. He was holding her much the same way he had when crossing the bar and walking down those grimy streets; yet, it was nothing like it at all. She felt no overt sexuality, no male dominant seduction, no nerve tingling insecurity. What she did feel was concern, comfort and ... and comradery; the emotions of a hardened veteran for a greenie on his first patrol.  
  
It shook her. She had no more experience with this kind of relationship than she had with the other. With no small amount of shock, she realized that by some natural phenomenon, she and Riddick were able to touch each other on the deepest of emotional levels; levels that the rest of the universe would sneer at the idea of either of them even possessing. As much as the miracle of it excited her, the responsibility of it sobered her. Then she had to wonder why she was so surprised. Nothing in her life had ever been in moderation. That her first sexually driven relationship was a maelstrom of emotion and complicated motivations was to be expected.  
  
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Riddick's mind was going in a dozen directions; all at the same time. What in the fuck had he gotten himself into. It started out as some toner 'Princess' hiring muscle to help her run away from ..... what? Her family, an abusive husband, something simple like that. Blink! It's a herd, some kind of brain trust, running from the Company and probably from the United World military but on the quiet ... mercs plus Spec Opps.  
  
If that wasn't bad enough, now he had Iman and Jack in trouble up to their eyeballs; trouble of their own but trouble because of him along with it. The contract with Jenna was the only reason that he was here to help them before it was too late. But if the conversation he had overheard between the first set of sentries was anywhere near what was going down here, the only way out for them was to join the escapees on the Hole. He really hoped that it wasn't that bad or that Iman knew some place on New Mecca where they could get safe sanctuary.  
  
The warm comfort of Jenna against his side brought his mind back to the other problem that contract had thrown at him; the 'Princess'. Hell, that image had started dissolving the second she walked into that sleazy bar. But, still, he hadn't taken it seriously when she had talked about him teaching her his way of killing. He hadn't respected her enough to take it seriously. Even the episode with G hadn't earned her any credit in that direction. Putting poison up a man's nose while he was held down and helpless wasn't the same thing as taking on an armed and fully mobile enemy.  
  
The only reason he had allowed her to stay with him tonight was that, not knowing how long a stun would hold with her, he couldn't risk her taking off with the skimmer and leaving him stranded. Having no quick way off planet was a much greater problem than her allowing her target to yell an alarm. And, he had minimized that risk by giving her the target farthest forward so that he would have the best chance of doing his and finishing hers before that alarm could be raised. When she botched it, she wouldn't be able to argue with his sending her back to the skimmer.  
  
That wasn't what happened. She'd missed the strike all right; most first timers did. Human cartilage and muscle were a lot tougher than most people thought they were. But unlike most first timers, she hadn't lost her focus. She'd finished the job; not quick and clean but finished. She'd also managed to do it wearing that freaking cloak. That she was whispering apologies for being so inept and causing him so much unnecessary pain while she was smothering the man was weird but not something that Riddick couldn't deal with. It was the same as that sad, sort of comforting look she had given G. It didn't subtract a damn thing from the fact that she was a fucking natural at this the same as he was. With training and experience she would be someone he could trust at his side or covering his back no matter how cranked the situation got.  
  
Shit! It must be a cold, wet day in hell. Thoughts like that in 'his' head. He'd learned his lesson on that score a long time ago. The only way to survive was to depend on no one, absolutely no one, but yourself. And he'd teach her that, too; right along with everything else. Oh, yeah. She was going to get what she wanted and, when he got through with her, pity the merc or Spec Opp that crossed her path. He found that thought so satisfying that he began to consider who else in the group might have talent worth developing.  
  
Syrus and Mr. Sen for sure and he already had a deal with Jeeter; shiv training in exchange for his expertise with stickers. Jack could handle more now that she was older. Ben was a question mark. The unholy three were probably lost causes. Each of them were cowards in their different ways. Riddick was also completely certain that one of them was the source of the tracking signal planted in the bay. Iman was a definite 'NO'.  
  
How about that! 'Richard B, Riddick's School of Self-Defense and Merc Fucking' had its first class of five, maybe six, He was pretty sure that it wasn't what Carolyn had in mind when she challenged him to rejoin the human race but it sure was an idea he could grab onto.  
  
As they passed the first kill site, Riddick retrieved his shirt and vest and handed them to Jenna.  
  
"Since you can manage that cloak, tuck these under your belt until we're done. And from now on, anytime we go planet side at night, we wear black shirts."  
  
Jenna seemed to consider this while she stashed away his clothing under her cloak.  
  
"No. Black on black .. on black is too obvious. Besides, ... I like the solution you came up with tonight much better."  
  
He caught the flash of a grin as she turned and headed for the next set of sentries before he could snap his reply at her. Given a chance for a second thought, he was glad that he hadn't. Threatening her with dire consequences if he caught her using the same solution wasn't the way to keep the upper hand in this ... this whatever it was between them. At least she was definitely recovered from her adrenaline shock. He followed after her. Setting the bigger future problems aside, he concentrated on what had to be done to clear out rest of the trash between them and Iman and Jack.  
  
On the next two kills, Jenna did a competent job; taking out both trachea and jugular. On the third and fourth, she severed the carotid as well. Like he'd thought, a natural. In each case she looked regretful but there was no more phasing out nor apologies. Riddick wondered if he was ever going to get deep enough inside her head to figure that one out. That thought went onto the future problems pile. The sentries had been easy. What was coming up, the command post, was probably going to be anything but. With a whispered command to Jenna for extra caution, he led the way toward it.  
  
In the conversation he had overheard, one of the men had been bitching about having to take orders from the off-world unbelievers. To Riddick that had read 'mercs'. When he got his first clear view of the command post he found out that he'd been wrong. It was worse than that. Two of the four were locals. The other two were dressed as mercs but their side arms were disrupters and each was cradling a pulse rifle in the crook of his arm. Since the Patrol always worked in uniform, that made them Spec Opps or Company Fixers and most of them were ex-SO.  
  
Fuck!!   
  
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beryl:a silicate of beryllium and aluminum; of great hardness; occurring in green hexagonal prisms. 


	19. Chapter 19 Reunion

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 19 - Reunion  
  
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Riddick did the only thing that he could do. He pulled back. As soon as they were a safe distance away, he began explaining the situation to Jenna.  
  
"If they were regular mercs, armed with gages and hand guns, I'd risk it but we can't deal with disrupters and pulse rifles with nothing but blades. I'll also bet the bank that they have night vision goggles, maybe shines. Carrying those weapons they have to be Spec Opps or SO trained and had Forces or Company help to get their equipment on planet. They also have a top of the line com unit and monitoring equipment. We can probably sneak everyone out the back but one squeak from the hack system and they will be reporting it to someone. I'll get what I came for but you won't."  
  
Jenna's answer was a surprise to him.  
  
"Not completely true. The friend of my friend is also my friend. But I would like a little more information before I give up on using that system. There maybe another way around this. First, why would either Galactic or the military be involved with locals?"  
  
Riddick hesitated. Having his decision questioned didn't set well. Then he remembered the remote security screen. Hell, there was no telling what other gadgets she had on that skimmer. Being a fool once a day was enough. It wouldn't hurt to see what she could come up with.  
  
"All I'm sure of is that the SOs are after my friends. Finding me is the only reason they would be after them. But, it doesn't make sense. The military was through with me when I got sent to Slam and the Company doesn't chase escaped cons. Besides, I thought I had covered our tracks after the crash. They shouldn't even know we survived."  
  
"Your friends were on the Hunter-Gratzner, too?"  
  
Riddick suddenly realized that he hadn't told her anything about the crash; the fight to survive, the way they had escaped, Carolyn; nothing about Jack and Imam, not even their names. What surprised him more was that she hadn't asked. She hadn't asked a murdering, escaped con how it was that he survived when everyone else died. Now, she was risking her life for people she knew nothing about for no other reason than his decision that it was necessary. When she saw how bad the situation was, she could just as easily have let him handle the whole thing on his own; have pulled out and waited for Ben to clear the Hole's computer. 'The friend of my friend ....' Well, since when was he her friend? Fuck! She was driving him crazy with this shit.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Then, it could quite possibly be Galactic. The suit filed for surviving relatives and the insurance companies involved with the cargo shippers is in the billions of credits; not just loss-incurred but punitive as well. The maintenance records for the ship are pretty damning and allowing a 'known murderer' to be transported with 'honest citizens' is another large point in the case. It's not all that important a suit in itself but, if Galactic loses, it will open the doors to nearly a thousand other suits against them that are pending. I'm sure that both Galactic and MMM&P have been running searches on every name on the passenger list for every scrap on information they could get. If either side located your friends, they want their knowledge of what happened that caused the ship to crash. If those men belong to MMM&P, they may be heavily armed against anyone Galactic might send after them but are not a danger themselves. If they belong to Galactic, I doubt that your friends would have survived very long after the initial interrogation."  
  
The idea that it might suddenly be open season on the Company was something that Riddick wanted to know more about. And who or what was MMM&P? But this wasn't the time for that discussion.  
  
"If they located Imam and Jack, they know about me. I stayed here with them for six months before I smuggled myself on to Derius 4. In fact, it's certain that they do. They wouldn't send SOs after a kid and a holy man. Hired mercs would have done the job just as well, cheaper and with no trail back to who hired them. There should be wants out on me again."  
  
"Not if they don't want you to exist until they find out what happened. As I said, your presence aboard the Hunter is a really touchy subject. We need one of those SOs to question. What they do or do not know about you could have a large effect on how we go about creating your new identity."  
  
"SOs don't talk. Not even for somebody as talented as you are at interrogation."  
  
"I'm thinking of someone as talented as Syrus. I can block their com signals with the skimmer's directional antenna; aim a white noise broadcast at their position. No one else will hear it but any signal they try to send won't be able to break through. Then, we need to use a diversion to split them up; something that they will want to check out but not so threatening that they will dig in and hold position instead. Do you know if there are any women in the compound?"  
  
Riddick knew where she was heading. He didn't like it.  
  
"If you're planning on doing something stupid, like running around screaming rape to see who it draws out, it isn't happening! The risk isn't worth what we would get. They're nothing but hired muscle. Their orders will be to either kill Jack and Imam or to take them to someone higher up. All they could tell us is if they're Forces or Company Fixers. Either way, it's the same devil. With what's happening to your Institute, you should know that. If you've got something on the skimmer that will kill them, do it. Otherwise, we do it my way."  
  
He could almost see the wheels turning behind her eyes. And those eyes! Riddick had never experienced shined eyes from this side of the shine for more than the few seconds it took for him and his shiv to dim them forever. Now, with ample time to study Jenna's, he could understand how they could be 'beautiful'. The deciding factor in that was knowing that the person behind them had no intention of killing you. Just another proof that Jenna had no fear of him from the very beginning. That's the way it had been with Jack. Riddick became very curious about what would happen when the two met. He was drawn out of these thoughts by Jenna's reply.  
  
"You left out one possibility. Those men may be working for MMM&P. If that is the case, it would be best to capture both alive. But you're right, of course. We must see to your friends safety before anything else. Let me jam their com so they can't send any warnings if they become suspicious."  
  
As Riddick watched her pluck another gadget off of her belt and begin tapping instructions into it, he had the definite feeling that this discussion wasn't over. He made a partial surrender and began racking his brain for some way to get her what she wanted, two very alive SOs, without letting her take any foolish risks. He was also wondering, again, what in the hell MMM&P was that would make it so important to take these men prisoner if they worked for it.  
  
She finished with the gadget and hooked it back on her belt.  
  
"Their com is blocked."  
  
"What else will that control do?"  
  
"Any function of the skimmer that doesn't require a full keyboard."  
  
"What weapons does it have?"  
  
"Sadly, only a disrupter cannon. A pulse cannon would require so much power that the skimmer couldn't stay airborne. Also, the com can broadcast any energy wave length and modulation that you want but the beam is too wide for it to be much better that the cannon as an anti-personnel weapon. The broadcast blocking their com is probably blocking your friend's system as well."  
  
Riddick sudden had a possible answer to capturing the SOs alive.  
  
"What about light?"  
  
He could see a sadistic smile curve her lips.  
  
"The landing lights can produce enough lumens to burn out their optic nerves at close range. At a lower level it will give them sun spots for hours. They were watching the road and the compound but ignoring the other third of their perimeter. Why don't we sneak up on them as close as we can and see if it works? You really don't want your friends in the skimmer when we do, do you?"  
  
Riddick tried one more time to slow her down.  
  
"What about Jeeter?"  
  
"He should still be unconscious. But just in case.... " She keyed the skimmer control again and then spoke softly. "Jeeter, if you can hear me, there are going to be some fireworks. The skimmer is well armored. Just keep your head down until I unlock the doors."  
  
Oh, that was fucking funny. Not only had she stunned Jeeter, she had locked him in his room. A muffled, angry snort came back across the link and made it even funnier. She must have used the next to lowest setting on the stunner for him to be conscious this soon.  
  
"I don't think he's talking to you any more."  
  
"You think so?" She keyed the control again. "Jeeter, I can either space you for attempted mutiny or I can offer you new eyes so this problem doesn't occur again."  
  
There was a short silence then the link whispered again.  
  
"I'll keep my head down, Lady."  
  
As Riddick watched Jenna finish pre-coding the skimmer for the attack on the command post, he compared her method of command to those of the many officers and non-coms he had known. She came out very near the top of the stack; a perfect combination of "boy do you know how bad you fucked up?" and "we'll fix the problem instead of you ... this time!". It was also completely different from the style she used with him; logic and, when that didn't work, dogged persistence that absolutely exhausted him. Come to think of it, she worked him the same way Jack worked him. With Jack, he could always draw the line and make it stick. With Jenna, he wasn't having much luck at that. Suddenly he wasn't so eager for the two of them to get together.   
  
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Jenna finished programming the skimmer and signaled Riddick to lead the way back to the command post. Once they had slithered into a good position, all she would need to do was hit the execute button on the controller. After that, it would be nothing but a matter of clean-up. She had a problem with that. Killing the others had been necessary; stunners made a very identifiable noise that would have carried the distance between the posts. The SOs were already scheduled for stunning but what of the locals? She really had no stomach for slaughtering blinded men no matter what kind of garbage they might be. She reached out and tugged on Riddick's cloak. When he turned, she put her mouth close to his ear.  
  
"If the locals are blinded, I don't want them killed."  
  
Jesus, what was he doing? He was nibbling on her earlobe! All that macho ego bullshit during hyper and now, in the middle of a night raid where he knew nothing could come of it, he was driving her straight up a wall again?! Just as she was about to utter a few dozen nasty comments about teasing, Riddick gave a soft rumble that was shockingly close to a sigh and abruptly pulled away.  
  
"You take care of the cripples and I'll handle anyone still fighting. But do me a favor, sweet thing. Until this is over, use hand signals."  
  
Ooooh ........ Jenna didn't know if the sudden heat in her cheeks was due to embarrassment at the awful things she had been thinking about him or pleasure that she should have such an effect on him. It just didn't seem possible that someone like him could find her so desirable. She had no doubt that it was nothing but chemistry and lust but why now and with him when never before and no one else. Damn, he was driving her crazy with this stuff.  
  
The attack was a complete success. As soon as they had crawled as close as Riddick would allow, Jenna signaled Riddick to pull his cowl completely over his face. She did the same with her own and, as an extra precaution, slid her arm over his back until her cloak covered both of their heads as well. She tapped the execute and began her count. It seemed to take a little longer than she had anticipated for the skimmer to drop down between the men and the compound. The greeting she had programmed issued from the skimmer's external speakers. A short count of two, Jenna saw a hint of light through the double layer of material and four male voices were screaming in agony.  
  
The hint of light disappeared. Giving Riddick a pat to signal the all clear, Jenna rose and charged the command post. There was one small problem. One of the natives, blind as a bat, was swinging his scimitar around like a razor edged windmill. Jenna drew her Saracen and blocked his blade just as he was about to decapitate one of his own companions. With gentle taps of her blade against his, Jenna lured him away from the group, swept his feet from under him, hit his butt with the stunner as he went down and finally rendered him totally unconscious with a neck hit. She turned to find that Riddick had already stunned the other three and was busy stripping the SOs to their underwear.  
  
"Let Jeeter out and have him start stripping the natives. The two of you can cut their robes into strips and tie everyone up while I see what's going on in the compound. By the way, did I hear right when the skimmer came in? 'Yuuuu Hoooo'?"  
  
"Well, I wanted them to look, not start shooting."  
  
Jenna used the control to unlock the skimmer. Then tried to think of some way to open what was sure to be a very touchy subject.  
  
Ah ....... About the sword thing?"  
  
Oh, God, please don't let him be angry. I've pushed him so far tonight. Don't let it be too far.  
  
"I saw. It was an automatic reflex .. and a good one. I couldn't have stopped him from killing one of them. Ben said you were good with that thing. He was right. You can sign me up for lessons." Then he looked behind her. "Jeeter, help Jenna with this while I check out the compound. Call me when the SOs are ready to load."  
  
As Jenna told Jeeter what they were doing and why, she watched Riddick walk toward the fountained, front courtyard of the compound. She had not noticed before how beautiful it was; a colorful but tasteful garden of Islamic mosaics and pleasantly gurgling and frothing fountains. But for all of that, the only thing that really interested her was Riddick. As he reached the edge of the courtyard, he stopped, pulled off his cloak and waited. The naked expanse of his arms, shoulders and back made her breath catch in her throat.  
  
Then the catch became a hard lump. The double doors of the compound flew open. A beautiful young woman rushed out, her long blond hair streaming behind her as she ran across the courtyard and straight into Riddick's arms.  
  
"I knew you'd come for us. I told him you would."  
  
Jenna turned away so quickly she almost jerked the strip of robe Jeeter was talking from her out of his hand. Even the anguished sobbing, the sound of too long bottled-up fear being uncorked, couldn't make her look back again.  
  
"That one of Barrol's friends?"  
  
Jenna kept tearing strips without looking up. She couldn't stand for Jeeter to see her face. She knew she had to make some answer but couldn't think of what to say nor how to keep her voice steady. Finally she mumbled the very thought she wanted to avoid.  
  
"He said they were 'a holy man and a kid' .. but .... Oh God, I'm being so stupid."  
  
It surprised her when Jeeter reached over and patted her on the knee.  
  
"Oh, not all the way, Lady. She don't look like no kid to me, either. But if you'd ah kept watching, that's just what she is to him. The way he's holding her, it's like Ma held one ah us when we were scared or hurting. Go ahead, look."  
  
The sobs were growing so quiet that Jenna knew if she didn't look soon her chance would pass. She forced herself to do it. Jeeter was right. Riddick had sat down on a bench and the young woman was curled into a tight ball in his lap. Her fisted hands were tucked under her chin and her face pressed tightly against his chest. He was rocking her side to side, gently patting her back and, judging by the movement of his lips, repeating the same calming phrase over and over.  
  
He must have seen the shine of her eyes. He made a wiping motion over his face and then motioned her to come to him. Tearing off two good sized patches of the robe she was stripping, Jenna did just that with one small detour. Stopping at one of the fountains, she wet one of the patches and wrung most of the water out of it before handing it to him. He immediately pried the young woman's face away from his chest and began washing away the tear stains.  
  
"It's been pretty hard on the kid, Jenna. Those animals have had them penned up for over a week."  
  
The young woman pulled the rag away from her face.  
  
"I'm not a kid!" Then her lower lip started quivering. "But maybe I am. Oh, Bro! Everything you taught me and I couldn't figure out anything to do."  
  
Riddick set her off of his lap onto the bench beside him and forced her to take the rag.  
  
"Damn it, Jack. I taught you what you needed to know to break away and run, not take on a fucking army. Now, finish cleaning up. There's someone important I want you to meet."  
  
Jack began scrubbing her face with the rag. Jenna had to do something about that. She patted Jack's hand and tugged at the rag.  
  
"Please, let me freshen that for you."  
  
Jack released the rag. Jenna crossed back to the fountain, wet and wrung it again, waved it to cool it and then folded it into a thick strip. She handed it to Jack with a brief explanation.  
  
"If you lay this across your eyes and refold it whenever it warms up, it will take down the swelling better."  
  
Jack looked at her with a good bit of suspicion.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
"I'm Jenna, Captain of the 'Hole in the Wall'." Then she leaned closer and lowered her voice. "Riddick has contracted to be my First Officer and teach me how to survive in this big, bad universe. My Second Officer, Jeeter, knows him as Barrol and the rest of my crew know him as First and Jeeter as Second. We all have our little secrets. "  
  
"It sounds like you're planning on taking us with you."  
  
"If that's what you want. If you have someplace on New Mecca where you will be safe, I can take you there just as easily."  
  
"Hell, no! I've been stuck here for four years. This time I go with Bro."  
  
Riddick joined the conversation.  
  
"Don't I have a say in this?"  
  
"No!"  
  
The two women had chorused the word. Jenna thought that Riddick's look of pained resignation was priceless. She just barely managed not to even smile.  
  
"I should have known. Jack will you put that thing on your eyes and tell us what is going on here."  
  
Jack leaned against the back of the bench, placed the wet cloth over her eyes and began talking. Jenna was impressed with the way she cut everything to bare bones; reciting it calmly, clinically; with the same voice and attitude Jenna expected from a good psychiatric assistant. Once past the initial shock, Jack was proving to have strong metal underneath.  
  
"First, there are four of us involved: Mira, Nagia, Imam and myself. Emir Kaseem is dying. Mira, whose bloodline traces back to most of the founding families of New Mecca, was his ward. Sulleman, Kaseem's nephew, wants to be the next Emir and marriage to Mira would cinch his claim. Mira can't stand him. Kaseem refused his suit. Kaseem fell ill and has been get sicker by the day so he made Mira Imam's ward to protect her from Sulleman. Now, Imam is ill and getting worse and we have sets of Sulleman's private thugs keeping us prisoner. The off worlders showed up the third day of the siege. Because of their clothes, I figure mercs planning on torturing Imam and me until they get a clue to where Bro is hiding out. Last little fact: the same physician was treating both Kaseem and Imam until I refused to let him into the compound anymore because Imam always got sicker after his visits instead of better. The only one of us caught in this mess for no good reason is Nagia. She belongs to Mira. Nurse, companion, chaperone, ladies maid .... anything you can think of. Most of the time it's more like Mira belongs to her. But she's ok. I get the feeling she could kick some serious ass if anyone tried to hurt Mira. Was I right about the mercs, Bro?"  
  
"We don't know but we're taking the two here along to have a chat about it. So you want off planet but what about the others?"  
  
"Nagia goes where Mira goes. Mira doesn't talk much but I'm pretty sure she'd like a different kind of life. But that's up to Imam. She's his ward. I think he will order her off planet because there really isn't any place safe from Sulleman on New Mecca. Imam going will be the problem. He was already headed into another depression over the boys. The sicker he gets the worse that gets. He's been into his 'Will of Allah' death chant ever since the siege began. He was even talking about arranging a 'good marriage' for me until the mercs came. Like that's really going to happen while I'm still breathing! You know how he gets Bro. Talking doesn't work. You're just going to have to tie him up and carry him."  
  
"Hey! How about some help out here? These bums are ready to be packed!"  
  
Jeeter's unfamiliar voice shouting out of the dark brought Jack up off of the bench. Her hand was scrambling for something in her sash belt that wasn't there. Neither Riddick nor Jenna attempted to touch her. Seeing that something was disturbing Riddick, Jenna spoke to Jack; making sure that her voice was strong but calm.  
  
"That's Jeeter, my Second Officer. Why don't we go out there so I can introduce you to him properly. I'd like to borrow your system and expertise to help him do some hacking for me."  
  
Like any true hacker, Jack was immediately focused.  
  
"You don't have a hack system on your ship?"  
  
Jenna smiled. The hook was taken; now to set it.  
  
"The Hole has a top of the line hack system but we have a little tarantula problem. We've disabled the hardware but are still working on the programming side. I've been told it's rather difficult to find."  
  
Jack's face was glowing with challenge as she walked with Jenna toward the skimmer.  
  
"Oh, yeah. Nasty. Like trying to find one particular gnat in a swarm. I think I have at least three versions of tarantula search and destroy progs but they keep changing the beast. As soon as we finish your hack, I'll start packing up my system."  
  
Damn! Jenna had just gotten Jack functioning on a, for her, solid base and now she was being forced to jeopardize it. She fiddled with the skimmer control to give herself some time to think about how to deal with the problem: turning on the interior lights, swinging the rear of the skimmer toward the command post and opening the loading hatch. This brought an appreciative gasp from Jack.  
  
"Wow! So that's where all that light came from. It doesn't show on the security scanners at all."  
  
Jenna crossed her fingers, mentally.  
  
"It's electronically invisible when all its shielding is engaged. It's a very sweet little machine but, as you can see, not very big. ... Damn, Jack, this is hard to say. I know how it is going to feel, especially after everything else you've been through. Ben .... he's my little brother the way you're Barrol's little sister ... Losing his system would be like having his heart ripped out." Jenna took a deep breath and continued. "There just isn't going to be room for anything but your data. I promise, swear, that I'll replace every piece of your equipment. If there is something special Ben can rebuild it for you. You'll also have access to the full mainframe of the Hole."  
  
Jenna finished and held her breath. She couldn't force herself to look at Jack. Then she felt a soft touch on her shoulder.  
  
"Hey, it's all right. Equipment is replaceable. It's the data that counts. Besides, it sounds like I'm getting the most fantastic upgrade in the universe. Damn, you're as tall as Bro."  
  
If anyone is out there listening, thankkkk youuuu. Jenna held one foot up in the light so that Jack could see the exaggerated soles of her boots.  
  
"It's a cheat. I was wearing platform shoes when Barrol and I first met and I guess he liked it. When we designed the uniforms, he added them to my boots. Now, let me introduce you to Jeeter."  
  
It took only a few minutes to make the introduction and get Jack headed back to the residence with Jeeter following at a respectful distance. It seemed that he was taking the glare that Riddick had thrown at him very seriously. Jenna was doing her best not to laugh.  
  
"Relax. There are three other people inside and, believe it or not, Jeeter knows how to behave around family. He understands what Jack means to you and would think of insulting her any more than he would me."  
  
All she received for this effort was a deep growl and continued low rumblings for most of the time it took for them to store away the weapons and the SOs in the skimmer. Finally she made another effort to put Riddick's mind on another track.  
  
"Why don't you tell me about the Imam's depressions and their cause. As sick as Jack seems to think he is, I would rather find a way to get him to agree to go with us. Forcing him could worsen his condition."  
  
She turned to find Riddick staring at her, studying her. She couldn't get a single clue from his face as to what he was thinking. Then, his face morphed into a very good impression of a gleeful Lucifer.  
  
"You're going to argue religion with Imam. This I have to see."  
  
"No."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"No. This is going to be hard enough without his having an audience to stiffen his back."  
  
"Yes. He has preached at me, one way or another, for four years. During all that time he never gave me one thing I could grab onto like I could what you said in a few minutes when we were in hyper. Now, I've got the chance to see the two of you go head to head. I.. am.. not.. missing.. that! Now come here."  
  
As he pulled her against him, Jenna managed to get one hand between their faces to block him from kissing her. He didn't say anything, just looked at her questioningly.  
  
"If you're expecting some master level contest of religious philosophies, you are going to be disappointed. I will be using a weak, sick old man's own religious beliefs to manipulate him. It doesn't matter that it is for his own good ..... Shit, what an over-used little bit of rationalization that phrase is. ... As I said, that doesn't matter. It's still manipulation; yoyo-ism at its worst. ... Rick, .. I really, really don't want you to see me that way."  
  
Riddick let go of her long enough to move her arms up and around his neck. Embracing her tightly, once more, he kissed her; a single, gentle, almost chaste kiss. Then, he laid her head on his shoulder.  
  
"Ben told me that you really enjoyed the games I played with the yoyos; taking their own religion, their science, and dusting them with it. Well, sweet thing, this is going to be exactly the same thing because that weak, sick, old man you're talking about is a heavy layer of stubborn over a slab iron core. But I'm putting my money on you. Just don't you go soft on me."  
  
Jenna stood there; content to be wrapped in the heat, the scent, the feel of him; more importantly, wrapped in the aura of his acceptance of her and belief in her. All too soon the magic was broken as Riddick withdrew slightly and spoke.  
  
"We got company coming. It looks like the exodus has begun." 


	20. Chapter 20 Them and Us

Dieselbabe - your e-mail listed on your profile isn't working. Please e-mail me with your new one.  
  
Author's note: C0.01 is notations for credits equivalent to $0.01 for US Dollars. I would have gone for a niftier symbol but what can you do in plain text.  
  
I know that I have slowed down on my postings. I do apologize BUT until they come up with a battery powered, water proof lap top compatible with floating around in the creek, summer posting is just going to be that way.  
  
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THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 20 - Them and Us  
  
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When Riddick laid Jenna's head on his shoulder, she uttered a soft, weary sigh. He wanted to mangle something. Turning a piece of angle iron into a corkscrew would have been a good start. The fact that she was feeling embarrassed about what she would have to do to get Imam to save his own skin really pissed him off. If it wasn't for Jack's feelings, he would tell Jenna to forget it and would take the holy man off planet tied up like a bundle of firewood. No, that wasn't the real truth. If it wasn't for Jack, he'd leave Imam to the consequences of his own choice. The only reason he wouldn't was because he owed him for taking care of Jack when Riddick couldn't. But, from what he'd seen so far, he wasn't any too happy about the way Imam had been doing that.  
  
What was she doing in that ugly, cover-everything-six-times, can't-hardly-breath native clothing at home? When Jeeter had startled her and her hands had gone searching for the shiv Riddick had made her, why wasn't it there? And what the fuck was this bullshit about arranging some native marriage for her? His Jack the property of some prick who would think she had no right to even think her own thoughts? It would have been a toss-up who Riddick killed first, Imam or the bridegroom.  
  
He suddenly understood why he hadn't been told that there was trouble here. Imam hadn't wanted him back; hadn't wanted him interfering with his plans to do what he thought was best for Jack. Somehow he had convinced Jack to go along with it; probably by telling her it would threaten Riddick's safety to come back. Oh, he had known that Imam had reservations about him, about his being able to change. Hell, he had doubts about it himself. He knew Imam absolutely didn't understand that, in order to survive and stay free, he had to continue with the old life until he could finance the changes necessary for the new one. Imam had shook with anger when he had offered to send money to help with Jack's care. Blood covered he'd called it and accused Riddick of trying to use support of Jack as an excuse to continue his evil ways.  
  
Still, he hadn't thought the man had such a low opinion of him that he would force Jack into that kind of slavery rather than have Riddick back in her life. Nor had he thought that Imam's own convictions of what was right and proper would blind him to Jack's innate independence. Jack was a free bird. Stuff her into that kind of cage and she'd either escape or die. Imam had been running that kind of play and now Jenna was feeling guilty about manipulating him? What a crock of shit!  
  
A soft contented murmur brought his attention back to Jenna. He didn't know how she was still on her feet after seventy-two hours of nothing but stress and maybe twelve hours sleep; all but the six in the healing chamber nothing but scattered cat naps. Instead of resting, she'd spent most of the time in the BC scanning local communication, finding and recording anything not directly related to landings and take-offs; even Captain to Captain chit chat.  
  
When he had voiced his doubt that such junk could be worth the rest she was sacrificing, she had informed him that Mr. Sen could take the most obscure and, to everyone else, unrelated bits of trivial information and predict the price of your morning coffee six months from now to within C0.01 or the direction the United World Council was going to jump in the next general elections and be right. Ok, ok. He's not going to argue with her. He's going to get them planet side and Jeeter busy getting the info she needs as fast as possible. Then, while he talks to Imam and Jack, he's going to see to it that she gets some sleep if he has to use that damn non-lethal earring of hers to do it.  
  
It was a good plan; a good plan that had gone straight to hell. Instead of getting some rest, she had thrown herself at his problems as eagerly as she attacked her own. Now, she was a five times blooded veteran infiltrator and had added another four people to her list of responsibilities. He hadn't even had to ask. She had read the situation the same as he had and offered Jack sanctuary for everyone immediately. He could only hope that the information Jack and Jeeter were getting was worth the effort she was putting into being 'a friend to his friends'. Then again, by taking his people on board the Hole, she would certainly think that she had increased his interest in the welfare and survival of her 'friends' as well.  
  
He wondered how long it would take her to figure out that Jack was the only one who really counted for that. The way he saw it, it would be no harder for him to stuff them into the BC and escape with Jack added to the package than it had been before. That he had included Ben and Jeeter in any emergency escape plans already had him doubting his sanity. He wasn't about to allow himself to add any more to the list; a list that would be shortened to only Jenna and Jack if the situation became that bad. He knew that both Ben and Jeeter would agree with him on that at least as far as Jenna was concerned but, oddly enough, that would only make it harder to leave them behind. This re-joining the human race shit was fucking complicated.  
  
The shuffle of soft slippers crossing the courtyard caught his attention. Jack and two other females were coming toward them. Jack was the only one without the required head coverings so he couldn't tell much about the other two. One was quite petite, the top of her head barely reaching Jack's shoulder. The other was taller than Jack, probably about half way between Jenna's true height and Riddick's. The layers of their robes hid any clue to body size and shape; the veiling, all facial features and coloring. The look on Jack's face and her purposeful stride told Riddick that she had something more in mind that introductions. As much as he hated to do it, he eased his hold on Jenna.  
  
"We got company coming. It looks like the exodus has begun."  
  
Jenna lifted her head to take a look for herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned to deal with whatever the approaching three wanted. When Riddick would have finished releasing his hold on her, she placed her hands on his in a silent appeal for him to keep his arms around her, his hands laying easy across her belly. He could feel the quivers in her muscles as she struggled to stand tall.  
  
Jack left the two veiled women standing some distance away and came on by herself. She immediately got down to business.  
  
"Captain, I informed Imam that we were being rescued. I didn't tell him that Bro was involved only that you were a friend that he had asked to check on us. I told him that you had offered us transportation off planet or to some other sanctuary here. He says he wishes to talk to you before he decides. But ..... he's lying. I already know what he is planning, has been planning for quite a while. He's going to ask you transport all of us to Sheik Malich's compound near Second City. Once there, he intends to arrange marriages for both Mira and me. Before you speak to him, Mira and I want to make it very clear that neither one of us want that. We both wish to go off planet.  
  
"Second says it would 'make things all nice and legal' for you to help us if we were part of your crew. That's fine for me, I'm eighteen, legal age by United World standards, Imam has no legal hold on me and I've plenty of useful talents. But Mira is only sixteen, is legally his ward and doesn't have any technical training at all. Is there any way you can give her political sanctuary or something?"  
  
Riddick's temper flared. Only a slight tightening of Jenna's hand on his arm restrained him. Then, her next comment caught his attention completely.  
  
"Why the game, Jack? Why didn't you tell The Imam that Riddick was here?"  
  
A hard look came into Jack's eyes.  
  
"Because I don't trust him. He doesn't want me joining up with Bro again. The less he knows about Bro's new life the better. The less he knows the less he can tell."  
  
Riddick may have had his doubts about Imam but they didn't go this far.  
  
"He's had four years to turn me, Jack. Why would he do it now?"  
  
Jack dropped her eyes away from his. Obviously whatever she had against Imam wasn't something she felt comfortable telling him.   
  
"Spit it out, kid. Waiting doesn't make it any better."  
  
He was amused and pleased by the way she straightened up, took a deep breath and used that fiery strength of hers fuel her courage. Now, that was his Jack.  
  
"He never believed you'd make it. Every time I said something about what we might do, where we might go when you got yourself straight, he kept telling me not to count on you; kept telling me that you were just going to get yourself caught again; that it's Allah's will that we pay for our sins. And he's been getting worse about that .... the Allah thing and paying for our sins. The sicker he gets the more he talks about it. And now, ........... Well, now you are going to make it. Your shine's gone, you got a righteous contract, you got righteous friends like the Captain here and Second. How's his Allah going to get to you? So maybe he decides that Allah wants him to see to that."  
  
"And Mira and Nagia?"  
  
"It's just better that they aren't involved if they don't come with us."  
  
Riddick didn't know how to answer her. I mean, who in their right mind wouldn't warn a kid not to count on a bad bet like him. And the Allah stuff ..... Hell, wasn't that what religious types did all the time, worry about getting right with God? Made sense that they'd do a lot more of it if they were sick, if they thought they were going to be closing the books pretty quick. For the kid to connect all that and come up with the idea that Imam would turn him for finally making a new life, something that the old man was always nagging him to get started with, didn't make sense. There had to be something more; something the kid wasn't willing to tell him. Fuck! Another problem of his that he was going to have to ask Jenna to deal with.  
  
"This is going to take some time to discuss. Captain's dead on her feet. You have somewhere we can sit down and some good strong coffee?"  
  
Jack blushed with embarrassment.  
  
"Oh. Sure. I'm sorry. I should have thought of that." Her attention turned to Jenna. "Second told me you were the one working the circle with Bro. That can't be easy. Keeping up with him, I mean. I'll see if Nagia has something in her herb case that's better than coffee. Come in the house. We can use the small parlor. It's nowhere close to Imam's quarters."  
  
Riddick cut in before Jenna could answer.  
  
"You go ahead, Jack. We'll follow in a minute." As soon as Jack was out of hearing range he spoke to Jenna. "She's adding two and two and getting five."  
  
He wasn't surprised when Jenna immediately understood. This ability to communicate with the smallest clues wasn't something that he had experienced before but somehow it seemed totally natural that he should be able to do it with her.  
  
"Yes. There is something that has predisposed her not to trust Imam where you are concerned. I'll see what I can do to find out what it is. So Nagia is an herbalist, interesting. I think I already have a crew position in mind for her. But .. I really would rather have a good hot cup of coffee than herbal tea right now. If they still brew it the way their ancestors did, it should be able to walk, talk and stir itself."  
  
While she was talking, Jenna had handed Riddick his shirt and vest. He released her long enough to put them on and then partially reclaimed her so that they were now walking side by side, his arm around her waist. As they neared the others, he couldn't resist shifting his hand down to cup the cheek of her butt; rounded softness made even sexier by the strong flex of muscle underneath. Damn! When were things going to settle down and give him the time do a righteous job of bedding this woman. He was convinced that she would have the same eager open attitude about that new experience as she had about every other one so far. He was damned if he wasn't going to draw that experience out to its farthest limits and enjoy every second of it.  
  
This thought was reinforced when he felt Jenna's hand on his own rump. She stroked gently, slowly back and forth over both hips and the small of his back before returning her hand to his waist and using her other hand to return his to her waist. Fuck! See you, raise you and then put the game on hold.  
  
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Jenna felt more than heard Riddick's low rumble; transferred through his rib cage to hers where their sides pressed together. There seemed to be so much communicated in that deep, soft growl; pleasure and frustration; a warning; a promise. It was totally primal. That same level in her responded; a level she hadn't been aware she possessed until she met Riddick.  
  
She almost hadn't done it, hadn't returned his caress in kind. Her intent had been to move his hand to a more socially acceptable location before reaching the group of women. It seemed rather wanton not to. But, it also seemed rather priggish to do so. Returning his caress before moving his hand had seemed a good compromise to her. His visceral reaction, as extremely pleasing as it was, left no doubt in her mind that from now on, when in public, she had better err on the side of priggishness. Being dragged off into the bushes was an exciting idea and would probably be even better than imagined but she really wasn't sure she could handle the embarrassment of returning afterwards.  
  
Jenna was thankful that, as they made their way into the house and he retrieved his cloak, Riddick took care of canceling the herbal tea and insisting on the coffee she craved. After the introductions had been made, the taller of the local women, Nagia, had fetched both coffee and tea from the kitchen and proceeded to serve Riddick and Jenna coffee but Jack and Mira tea. This didn't seem to please Jack but she didn't argue about it. Jenna began to understand what Jack had meant when she had said that is was questionable who owned who between Mira and Nagia.  
  
The service cups were hardly bigger than a double shot glass. After heavily sweetening the coffee, Jenna drank the first cup in two swallows as if it had been liquor. As Nagia moved to refill her cup, Jenna became aware that the woman hadn't taken a seat with the rest of them but was standing behind Mira; a position she returned to as soon as she had finished pouring the coffee. Oh, well, what was another problem in the mass she had to deal with. She decided to get the easiest solved first.  
  
"Jack, I'd like to deal with your requests to be taken off planet first. After that Nagia and Mira may prepare for whatever their destination will be while we talk further. Do you have any idea of what crew position you would like to fill?"  
  
"Second says he will vouch for my com abilities, for Second Com Officer but ..... he says that the Nav slot is open, too. I have all the book hours necessary for a Basic License in navigation with the University of New Mecca by correspondence. The only reason I haven't finished it is that I never could figure out a way to get on campus and do the simulator work without them finding out I was a woman. Would you maybe take me on as a Nav trainee, too?"  
  
That seemed like a little too much of a fortunate coincidence to Jenna.  
  
"What prompted you to study navigation?"  
  
"I want to be a pilot. Nav is the first step for that. You never know when knowing how to pilot could save your life."  
  
That explanation set Jenna's suspicions to rest. It was a totally logical decision for someone who had crash landed on and then escaped from a hostile planet.  
  
"With that amount of education, we'll cut out the middle step. You are now my Nav Officer. As soon as we get the kink worked out of the main computer, we can get you your new identity with all the proper certificates. You'll parallel nav with myself or First until you're ready to solo. After you have that under control we'll start with pilot training. Tell me, how do you react to cryo?"  
  
This question seemed to puzzle Jack but she answered without making any comment.  
  
"Like everyone, I guess. I've only been in it once. I went to sleep until the .... until they woke me up."  
  
Jenna was a bit disappointed. It seemed the fortunate coincidence had run out.  
  
"Well, we'll test you for hyper anyway but Keller will probably be all you can handle. Now, Mira, it's your turn. But, before we discuss any crew position, I need to question your choice of going off planet rather than seeking a safer sanctuary here on New Mecca. I must assure myself that you realize that going off planet will require you to take on a totally new life style; one that may be extremely uncomfortable for you given the cloistered upbringing you have experienced. You will be required to assume ships dress; similar to First's but with a less revealing shirt and not quite so full trousers. There will be no veiling. Also, you can no longer consider Nagia your property. There will be no slavery on my ship. Your own personal moral and religious beliefs will be respected but you will be required to respect those of other members of the crew that differ from yours.  
  
"You will be required to take several tests to discover both your present abilities and any vocations that you would be suited for and then to make a genuine effort to become educated and trained in several of those fields. The last thing you must understand is that this is basically a final decision. Once you join the crew, you will not be allowed to leave unless I can be certain that you will never reveal any information about it or the ship to anyone. This includes the very fact that it even exists. There is a possibility that we will be establishing a colony at some time in the future but I can't promise anything other than the life of a space vagabond for a very long time."  
  
Mira was silent for a time. When she finally spoke her soft soprano voice had a slight trill. To Jenna's ear it sounded rather flute like.  
  
"What of the mating and childbearing? Do you, as Captain, decide such things?"  
  
Jenna didn't have to see through the veiling. She could hear the shyness and embarrassment. She gave the young woman points for courage.  
  
"No. I do not interfere with the personal lives of my crew unless it in some way compromises the safety or efficient functioning of the ship. In such personal matters, no one has the right to force anyone else to do anything they do not want to do. When and with whom you decide to bond will be your own choice. I do warn you, however, that such freedom of choice carries a great deal of responsibility with it. I would recommend that you make sure that your knowledge of who you are and what you want is well developed and that you make a detailed comparison of those same factors in any potential mate before making such an important decision. Physical attraction alone isn't a good basis for stable bonding. Also, be very doubtful about any promises a man may make to talk his way into your bed. There won't be anyone who will force him to keep those promises unless you get them in writing and his signature witnessed by at least two other people and a representative of the local government. On board ship, that will be me. On planet, probably a Judge or his clerk."  
  
"You make it sound as complicated as the marriage contracts are here?"  
  
"Not legally. Most places it is no more than a matter of paying the fee for a marriage registration and both of you signing it. But there are a wide variety of cultures out there. In many of them, a simple marriage registration makes a woman her husbands property just a it does here unless you have a detailed contract that prohibits that. There are also matters of wealth and property that should be addressed. I do presume that even though you go off planet any inheritance, dowry moneys or such that you have will be held in trust. What I am trying to tell you is that you and you alone will be responsible for the result of your choices. Unless you have the physical capabilities to protect yourself you had better arrange for legal protection. While I object violently to forced marriage, I find detailed marriage contracts to be a excellent idea. They eliminate a great deal of misunderstandings and conflicts later. Also, even if you do develop the expertise in martial arts, which by the way will be one of your first studies, it is still usually preferable to take a man to court rather than slitting his throat. It doesn't upset the children as much."  
  
Mira drew back a little and, even behind the veiling, Jenna could see her eyes had widened. Then a small, smothered giggle escaped the layers of cloth.  
  
"You speak very bluntly but with wisdom. I would go with you. Here I am nothing but a ... a female for breeding. I have no value but the blood line I carry. Knowing Jack, I have seen that a woman can be more. I would be that more."  
  
The answer was right but would she produce the actions to match it.  
  
"Then get rid of the veil and free Nagia."  
  
Mira immediately removed her veiling and placed it in the center of the low table around which they were seated. Jenna was shocked by her beauty; an almost unreal, fairy like beauty. Her skin was blemish free and the color of creamed coffee. Her heart shaped face was graced with delicate, finely drawn features and large milk-chocolate colored eyes. All this was framed by tightly coiled, raven wing hair. She couldn't stop herself from taking a shifty side-ways glance at Riddick to see what his reaction was.  
  
He was looking back and forth between Mira's ethereal beauty and Jack's more earthy, yet no less beautiful, face. One eyebrow was raised, his lips were pursed and there was a somewhat murderous light in his eyes. It seemed that Riddick had just acquired another little sister and Jenna was going to have to have a very serious talk with the rest of the male members of the group if she didn't want the gangways running red; or black and blue at the least. She would need to give particular attention to Jeff.  
  
Jenna was so focused by this that she almost missed the silent argument that was occurring between Mira and Nagia. Mira was holding out her hand, palm up, in a request for something and Nagia was doing her best to ignore it. Finally, with a deep sigh and a significant amount of difficulty, she removed a plain iron band from the ring finger of her left hand and handed it to Mira. Mira placed the ring on top of the veiling. With a nod of approval, Jenna turned her attention to Nagia.  
  
"From what I have seen, I presume that you are very attached to Mira and I would have a serious battle on my hands if I were to refuse to allow you to accompany her. But ... I will do just that if you will not agree to the same terms as I have detailed to her. Whatever personal relationship the two of you work out between yourselves will not be allowed to interfere with your duties to the ship. You will also be expected to encourage her search for a new life style, not impede it. You will adjust to the ship's dress. You will put forth the effort to educate yourself to the limits of your abilities. You will show the same respect for the cultures and beliefs of others as will be accorded you. Do you have any questions?"  
  
Nagia's voice was a soft alto; very soothing, motherly. Her question wasn't.  
  
"Will the Imam be subject to these same regulations? Most particularity the admonition against being an impediment?"  
  
It seemed that the Imam wasn't getting a vote of confidence from anyone. Jenna found this quite understandable as he was a product of a culture that made little more than slaves of it's women, iron ring or gold.  
  
"Yes. If he wishes to board my ship for medical treatment and then leave, it will be allowed as a special circumstance. But, if he wishes to remain aboard my ship he will abide by my rules. Now, if you wish to become a member of my crew, remove your veil and join us instead of standing aside like a servant. I have a possible crew position to discuss with you."  
  
Nagia complied but she seemed more perched on than seated in the chair. Jenna wasn't put off by that. You couldn't expect a life time of training to be switched off in a short second. When she removed her veiling, placing it with Mira's and then reached a cup from the service and poured herself some tea, Jenna decided that the perching might be a part of her natural posture. Jenna used the excuse of refilling her own cup to study her face.  
  
Her age was hard to judge. Jenna speculated that she was probably in her early thirties but she could just as easily have been either far younger or far older. Her skin was a rich ebony. Her tightly curled hair was cut short and packed into a three inch deep frame for her oval face. Her features were broad and full. The one startling aspect of her face was her eyes. They were a taffy brown, as near to gold as human eyes can be. Taken alone, her physical features would have been labeled merely pleasant. However, there was an aura of calm serenity gracing them that Jenna thought a much more desirable attribute.  
  
"Jack informed me that you brew herbal teas. How far has your training in medicinal herbs progressed?"  
  
Perhaps the perching was a sign of discomfort for, while Nagia had removed her veiling, she was avoiding direct eye contact.  
  
"I am full trained as an herbalist. It is not proper for male physicians to treat the women of a household. I was prepared to assume that duty in Mira's."  
  
"Do you grow, collect and prepare your own herbs?"  
  
"Of course. One can not be assured of the quality otherwise. I have with me the full of my seed collection and also bedded cuttings for those that can not be grown from seed. I shall regret the loss of the cuttings. Some are quite rare and hard to collect."  
  
"I would consider those to be irreplaceables. If you can pack them to survive for twenty-four hours before they can be permanently re-established and do it quickly, we can take them. Your title will be Ship's Pharmacist. You will work closely with the Ship's Doctor. I warn you that, while he is excellent in his profession, he has a very bad personality. He is totally intolerant of inept or sloppy work. On a good day, his wit resembles an unsheathed blade and on a bad day is his just plain nasty tempered. However, his interest in medicinal plants has become an obsession. You bring him herbs and knowledge that he doesn't have and you will probably buy yourself enough good days to learn how best to deal with him. Personally, I stand up in his face. I have since I was eight years old. But, you will have to decide what works best for you. If he becomes completely unbearable, come to me."  
  
Jenna turned to Riddick.  
  
"First, please assist Nagia in storing her plants in the under deck storage. If she needs the room, set the SO's weapons on self-destruct and toss them into the gully."  
  
She turned back to Mira and Jack. Both Riddick and Nagia recognized this as gentle dismissal and left the parlor with Nagia in the lead.  
  
"Mira, you will need to see to your and the rest of Nagia's packing. I want to be gone from here as soon as possible. Remember, we are very restricted on space. Bring only valuables and mementos that can't be duplicated. Jack, I need to talk to you for a few minutes and then you can check on Second and see to your own packing."  
  
It took a second glance at Mira and a moment of silence before she rose, smiled sweetly at Jenna and left the parlor. She was probably going to have more difficulty adjusting to the less formal manners of the rest of the universe than Nagia would. Jenna had been serious about leaving as soon as possible. She wanted to be off planet before sunrise. She got straight to the point with Jack.  
  
"Your suspicions about the Imam don't make sense unless there is something else. Something you don't want to tell Riddick. Well, I'm the one nominated to deal with the Imam and I need to know everything to do that. So, as Riddick said, spit it out. You can consider that an order, Navigator."  
  
Jack got an extremely stubborn look for a split second and then seemed to reconsider her position.  
  
"Yes, Captain, but ...... what has he told you about what happened when we crashed?"  
  
"Nothing. I know what the general public knows plus a great deal more about the indigenous creatures you had to deal with. When they located the wreck. Galactic sent in a standard rescue operation. They lost every one of them but received enough information from the few transmissions they made to turn it over to the Forces. They sent in a full section. They lost half of it and came back with one specimen; a juvenile about three feet long. It tested out to be one of the nastiest beasties they had ever encountered. I have full copies of all of the testing that was done. The geological reports they salvaged were so poor both United Worlds and Galactic decided that the planet wasn't worth the cost of exterminating them. United Worlds put a permanent quarantine on it. How the three of you survived and got off planet, I have no clue."  
  
Jenna had watched Jack's face turning paler and paler as she was speaking.  
  
"Don't try to tell me the whole thing, Jack. Just tell me whatever happened that concerns the Imam."  
  
Jack seemed to relax a little.  
  
"Ok, but you have to understand that the only reason we survived was him, was Riddick. He could see and .... he could kill the mother fuckers. I saw him do it. With nothing but his shiv he killed on of the big ones. It was ........ he was ....... "  
  
Jenna helped Jack fill in the blanks.  
  
"I've seen him kill, Jack. And, yes, there is a terrible beauty in the way he does it."  
  
Jenna felt a little embarrassed by the astonished gratitude that Jack aimed at her.  
  
"That's it! That's it exactly. I never thought anyone else could see him like that. But if you can, then maybe .... maybe you can understand the rest of it. It was when we got back to the skiff. There was just Riddick and me and Imam and Carolyn left. Carolyn was the pilot. We thought that Riddick was right behind us but he wasn't. Then we heard him yell. It was hurting and angry and desperate and crazy and ....... Carolyn ...... she and Riddick had come back for us and she went back for him. But Imam tried to stop her! He tried two or three times to get her to get into the skiff and leave Riddick behind. It was like, after all he had done for us, he was still garbage; just garbage to be left behind. Imam is just like all the rest of them. No matter what we do, they throw us away like garbage. Get us off their hands and out of their lives as soon as they can and fuck what happens to us."  
  
Not "He" and "Him"; "We" and "Us". Now, Jenna understood. Most therapists would label Jack as paranoid and delusional. Jenna didn't. A good percent of the human race treated the rest of it exactly as Jack had described. However, Riddick, more mature and experienced, had a different view of the Imam. It seemed that it was up to Jenna to make her own assessment and decide which of them was right. 


	21. Chapter 21 The Imam

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 21 - The Imam  
  
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While the parlor and what little of the rest of the residence Jenna had seen were quite luxurious, lavishly decorated with Moorish inscriptions, colorful patterned carpets and furnishings upholstered in rich fabrics, the Imam's room was rather austere. There was a simple, narrow couch/bed, a writing table and it's straight backed chair, many book cases, and a low table with two accompanying arm chairs. This last group was arranged near enough to the bed for comfortable conversation. What little wall there was, that was not covered in book cases, was undecorated.  
  
When Jack introduced Jenna to the Imam, Jenna was amused by the demure and respectful manner in which she did it. Not one bit of the animosity she had so recently voiced was showing. Jenna would have given her high marks for her acting talent if it had not been for the fact that she was over doing it to the maximum.  
  
"Imam, this is the Captain who has offered us her aid. I have explained your illness, the reason you can't meet with her more formally. Unless there is something you need immediately, may I be excused to attend to a service for the Captain?"  
  
"I am fine child."  
  
His voice was almost as deep and rich as Riddick's. But there was a purposeful calm refinement to it that eliminated any possibility of it creating the animal tension that Riddick's could. Of course, that was something that an Imam wouldn't wish to do, wasn't it. As Jack left, he struggled to maneuver himself into a sitting position. The effort left him pale and sweaty. Jenna could see that he had been a strong, robust man but his illness had ravaged him badly. However, when he spoke it was obvious that it had not weakened his mind.  
  
"Jack is, of course, going with you. I understand why she feels that she must. She has never really been happy here."  
  
"Yet, she treats you with respect and deference and seems to have adjusted well to the local customs."  
  
"It is but an act and a very recent one. Nor is the local dress voluntary. I thought it safer for her since the arrival of Sulleman's men. Her true nature is much too exuberant, too independent. I had thought that with age, maturity, that would change. However, her negative reaction to the more ordered society of my world has had the opposite effect. Since her behavior has changed, I have spent many restless nights wondering if the sunrise would find her gone. She is quite inventive enough to discover a way off planet. I am relieved that Allah has provided her a safe source of transportation. But ....... she will ask you to take her to our ... mutual friend. I must be truthful that this worries me. I am certain that he would never intentionally harm her but his life is ...... is so unstable. You are a woman of her world. Please, give me your opinion of this."  
  
The man seemed genuinely concerned for Jack. Also, though he had confirmed both Jack's and Riddick's claims that he had issues with Riddick's choices, he was certainly being very careful not to make any open reference to Riddick's identity and criminal history. Jenna tested him further.  
  
"Are you aware that Jack believes that you intend to arrange a marriage for her here?"  
  
The man was honestly shocked.  
  
"No! Never. She would find such a situation intolerable. As soon as she had acquired all of the credits possible locally through correspondence classes, I had intended to solicit funds from the Emir to send her elsewhere to finish her education. Sadly, circumstance has destroyed the possibility of that. In reality, I have no right to question her choice to go to him. There is really no where else for her to go."  
  
The look of self-disgust on his face was painful for Jenna to witness. It was obvious that he felt he had failed his responsibility to Jack and was quite angry with himself for doing that. Jenna decided it was time to relieve some of his anxiety.  
  
"You underestimate her. Jack lacks only some practical experience to qualify for her Basic License in navigation. I am willing to provide that in order to fill an empty slot on my bridge. She has joined my crew as Nav Officer. Her ultimate goal is to become a pilot and I can provide that training as well. Yes, she does wish a reunion with Mr. Riddick but she has no reason to nor intention of being dependent upon him for her future. She is extremely capable for her age and I have no doubt that she will succeed at whatever she chooses to pursue. I would be very pleased if she chooses to remain with me on a permanent basis but I will not stand in her way if she decides that her destiny lies elsewhere."  
  
The Imam's face relaxed and a gentle smile curved his lips. Jenna could actually see how distinguished and handsome a man he must have been.  
  
"You are a gift from Allah, Captain. I have only the welfare of my ward to arrange before I can surrender to His will."  
  
By God, she had to win this. She couldn't allow him to succumb to this illness without giving Syrus a chance to heal him. She had no doubt that, at full strength, he was very definite and inflexible in many of his moral opinions but then who wasn't definite and inflexible when it concerned their area of expertise. She had grown up with four men of just such temperament. Even shy and reticent David would stand up in anyone's face when it came to his field of engineering. Nor had she and Ben, though children, been very much different.  
  
Her gut told her that this was a good man; that his focus was the needs of others rather than creating a power base here or status in the hereafter through conversions. She sensed no hypocrisy in him. She might decide that it was inadvisable to offer him a permanent place in the group, now the extended group, but she was certainly going to do everything she could to keep him from dying.  
  
"No. I'm a gift from Riddick. He is your gift from Allah."  
  
"Yes ..... it would seem so ........ but that is not an opinion that I had expected to hear from anyone but Jack. You also call him by his true name. By that, I take it that you have his trust as much as he has yours. I want no particulars, no information that might threaten his safety but I would know ...... is he well?"  
  
Jenna knew that Riddick's physical health wasn't what was on the Imam's mind. She answered the question he had not found the words to ask.  
  
"He has begun the next stage of his journey."  
  
The Imam uttered a sigh of relief and the small smile returned.  
  
"You are indeed an understanding and kindly person, Captain. Your presence here is a blessing."  
  
Jenna resisted the urge to bask in that flattering image.  
  
"You may retract that opinion when you have heard the rest of what I must tell you. The welfare of your ward has already been arranged, arranged by Mira herself. It seems that her association with Jack has made her unwilling to follow blindly the path that others have chosen for her. She too has asked to join my crew. I have accepted her as an unassigned trainee."  
  
The smile was gone.  
  
"But this is impossible! She is a child. She is naive, untutored; trained for nothing but the duties of a wife and mother. She will be completely helpless outside of the protected position of her class and culture. She hasn't the wisdom or knowledge to make such a decision!"  
  
"She has enough knowledge and wisdom to know that she can be more than breeding stock, valued only for her ancestry. As she so succinctly stated it herself, she wishes to be that 'more'. If she is naive and untutored, it is because she has never been given the chance to be otherwise. I have the capability in my ship's main computer to offer her an education in any subjects she chooses to any level that she is able to attain. She seems to have an excellent command of Standard but the computer has full translation capabilities and can parallel any studies in New Meccan Local. She will also have the support and council of Nagia. Mira has freed her and she has accepted the position of Ship's Pharmacist due to her abilities with herbs. Mira's education will also include the many and varied cultures which the human race has invented and how best to survive in any of them. When she has decided where she wishes to be relocated, she will be given a new, perfectly documented, identity."  
  
The Imam was frowning furiously.  
  
"I cannot believe that it is best for her to be removed from her culture, her people. It is the same as if I had accomplished what Jack accuses me of planning for her."  
  
It wasn't the same, of course. Mira had made her own choice. But that wasn't the proper track to use with the Imam.  
  
"Imam, I know that her problems are caused by one man's, Sulleman's, political ambition and desire to garner power and prestige by association with the blood of the First Families that she carries. I also know that the same problems could have occurred in any number of cultures and societies. But you can't deny that the culture of Islam gives her no protection from him other than placing herself at the mercy of some other man equally as powerful. Both your and the Emir's illnesses have shown her that even this is not certain safety. She is young and she is frightened and she can't see any other way out but to escape off planet and find a hiding place away from Islam. I am older and a little more experienced but I can't see another way either. If you in the wisdom of your years can, please tell me what it is?"  
  
His excited outburst had cost the Imam. He sagged back. Jenna cursed the lack of time that was forcing her to push these issues.  
  
"Please, Sir, is there something I can get you? A medicine or perhaps tea or coffee?"  
  
At his request, she returned to the parlor and fetched the coffee and tea service. She prepared him a cup of tea with a small amount of honey and handed it to him. As he took it from her, she was able to make a closer observation of his hands. The striations showing prominently across his fingernails and the abnormal coloration of the nail beds confirmed a suspicion that she had formed while listening to Jack's recital of the situation. That information would be useful later. She waited patiently for the Imam to reply to her question. When he did, his voice reflected the weakness of his body and, perhaps, the despair that the admission caused him. She could barely hear him.  
  
"No. I cannot find another answer. Sulleman's power here is such that no hand but the Emir's could be guaranteed to stay him. Should he succeed in securing the position of Emir after Kaseem, no settlement of the faithful will be safe haven from him. As old and dear friends as we are, I am at a loss as to why Kaseem passed Mira's guardianship to me. I may have a small amount of prestige among others of my calling but that is a grain of sand against the political and military power of Sulleman."  
  
Jenna had a flash of inspired understanding.  
  
"Imam, you say that you and the Emir are old and trusted friends. How much of the events of the crash did you confide in him? Most particularly, did you confide in him anything concerning Mr. Riddick's perhaps unsavory but very valuable talents?"  
  
"Yes. It was his patronage that provided for us. I felt he had the right to know. He accepted my assurance that there would be no disturbance created here, that Mr. Riddick was serious in his intentions to begin a new life. He had no problem with Mr. Riddick remaining in my household as long as that remained true. In fact, Kaseem took quite an interest in him. Even after he left New Mecca, Kaseem always inquired about his well being. Why do you ask this?"  
  
"I was just wondering if, being so ill and knowing he wouldn't be able to control Sulleman much longer, Kaseem didn't come to the same conclusion concerning Mira's safety that we have. From what I understand of 'palace politics', it is a safe assumption that he didn't have many, if any, people around him that he could trust with that thought, much less with being willing to risk themselves to carry it out. Being involved in the disappearance of a national treasure such as Mira, would rate life in prison if not summary execution."  
  
The Imam's expression was very skeptical but he wasn't interrupting her with vehement denials. This gave Jenna some hope that he was giving thought to what she was saying. She pushed on with it.  
  
"You say you have no particular power as far as New Mecca or Islam is concerned but you certainly have something that I would think no one else Kaseem knows and trusts has. You have the perfect contact to get someone off planet and well hidden when all official and legal channels are closed. It is possible that the reason he transferred her guardianship to you was that, in putting you and Jack in the same danger from Sulleman that she was, he hoped to cause Mr. Riddick to rescue the two of you and, as a consequence, Mira as well. This would accomplish the deed while allowing him and any successor he would recommend to deny any knowledge of it. "  
  
The Imam held his cup out to her.  
  
"If you would be so kind."  
  
Jenna prepared his cup and returned it; then poured and sugared coffee for herself. They sat in silence for many minutes. Unless an observer were sensitive to emotional tension, it would have seemed like nothing more than a companionable sharing of refreshment. Finally the Imam spoke.  
  
"First, I must tell you that this manner of thinking, this devious and complicated plotting, is so foreign to me that I hardly know how to judge it. However, for that very reason, I must admit that you may be quite correct in it. It is very odd, very puzzling. You are young, female and foreign. Yet, in the short time we have conversed, I find that speaking with you is much like many of my conversations with Kaseem. There is a sameness of spirit and mind in the two of you that leads me to believe that you may indeed understand the workings of his mind better than I. It would seem that a Captain and an Emir have much more in common with each other than with an Imam. With reservations, the same that I would have with Kaseem, I will accept your judgement in this matter."  
  
Step one accomplished. Now, on to the next. It wouldn't do for the Imam to be caught unaware of the other major change required for Mira's escape.  
  
"Then, there is one more very important fact that you must know about this matter. You will find it very disturbing but I ask you to allow me to give you my reasons for it before you make judgement. I have requested, and Mira and Nagia have agreed, to set aside their veils."  
  
For long seconds, the Imam seemed carved out of stone. Only a barely discernable movement of his chest assured Jenna that he hadn't died from the shock. She had begun to worry that he had fallen into some type of catatonic state when he finally shifted his eyes to her once again. She took this as a sign to continue.  
  
"We have already agreed that Sulleman will not take this defeat well; that he will attempt to regain Mira, will search among the faithful everywhere for her. Therefore, it isn't logical that he would stop at that. When he doesn't find her there, it is probable that he will set a bounty, hire mercs to look for her elsewhere. Those mercs will be looking for a Muslim woman; actually two women and a man, if you choose to join them. If Mira is to be safe from them, she cannot continue to look like a Muslim woman. Just as Mr. Riddick must loose his identifying shine, she and Nagia must set aside their veils and you your robes and assume foreign dress and, to some degreed, manners. It has no significance as far as your or their belief in and adherence to Islam. It is strictly camouflage from the enemy. You are guaranteed the same complete freedom in the matter of faith as I guarantee all of my crew."  
  
The Imam had turned into flesh and blood again. The mention of Riddick's shine in comparison to the veils had seemed to be the deciding factor in this. It had clarified the situation as nothing else could have.  
  
"Again, I can see the necessity of your decision. But to include me in this escape? I sense that you do not agree with my belief that my illness and its inevitable end is Allah's will."  
  
Well, now it was down to the line. She had just knocked the man's whole world catty-whampus, usurped his authority over his household and now she was going to question his understanding of his religion. Maybe she did need to be painted inside a pentagram.  
  
"I'm am a warrior, Imam, not a holy man. I wouldn't venture to speculate on the mind of God. However, as I see it, your Allah has opened a door for you; a door that leads one of the most excellent physicians in the known universe. With his abilities thrown into the mix, the end result of your illness might not be as inevitable as you think. Personally, if such a door were opened for me, I wouldn't presume to ignore it. That aside, from what Jack has told me and a small observation of my own, I believe that your illness is due to the will of Sulleman, not Allah. Such deceit and treachery should not be surrendered to."  
  
She had the Imam's total attention.  
  
"Explain this."  
  
"Mira was the Emir's ward. He became sick. As soon as you became her guardian, you became sick. When I handed you your cup, I saw striations on your fingernails and a coloration in the nail beds that suggests that your body is trying to dispose of an unacceptable substance in the least vital parts of it. I have a degree in medicine and, though this is not my field of concentration, in my professional opinion, you have been poisoned. I suspect that the same is true for the Emir. While I can do nothing for him, I can offer you the services of an excellent physician and an extensive medical facility to identify the substance used and attempt to nullify it and repair the damage it has done."  
  
A smile had creeped onto the Imam's face again.  
  
"You are indeed like Kaseem. First, by denying your own ability to read the mind of Allah, you so diplomatically accuse me of attempting to do exactly that. Then you proceed to give me evidence that suggests that you may be better at it than I am. If it were not for my many years of association with him, I might be quite ..... upset with you. Am I to presume that I also am to be recruited into your crew as the rest of my household has been?"  
  
'Might be upset'; try 'definitely was'. But not so upset that he wasn't willing to accept the situation and cooperate. It was time to cut this short, get on with the escape and give the Imam time to adjust to what had happened so far.  
  
"That can be discussed later. We are short on time and you are short on strength. There will be ample time to deal with that after we have seen to your health problems. If you will excuse me, I will see to the progress of the rest. As soon as we are ready to leave, Nagia and I will assist you in transferring to my skimmer. In fact, I will ask her to assist you as soon as her own packing is finished. We have very limited space and any clothing will be provided aboard ship but we should be able to fit in any personal irreplaceables you might wish to retain. I would ask that with anyone but myself and Jack you make no reference to Mr. Riddick."  
  
"I quite understand the necessity to protect his safety, Captain. But you need not bother Nagia with my packing. The few things that are of value to me are in the casket on the writing desk. You are welcome to take it now."  
  
The wooden chest he indicated was approximately two foot by eight inches by eight inches. When Jenna picked it up, she found that it wasn't any great weight. Then, as she turned to leave, he spoke again.  
  
"Wait, please."  
  
With effort he shifted and retrieved something from under his bedding.  
  
"Will you please give this to Jack. I was afraid it would tempt her to some inadvisable action against Sulleman's men."  
  
The object he held out to Jenna was a shiv and quite obviously the product of Riddick's art.  
  
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Jeeter thought they were doing pretty good with the packing up. Jack had no baggage but the hard drives from her system, one ah which had all the stuff he had collected for Lady. Nagia was the same; just interested in her plants. Jack had changed into regular duds; jeans, a T-shirt, a wide heavy belt and heavy rough-country boots. He was trying to enjoy the view ah her tight little butt and nice rack, without letting Barrol catch him at it, when the trouble started. Mira came outa the house dragging a wheeled trunk twice as big as she was.  
  
Barrol just stood there, watching her struggle with it and not making a move to do anything. Then, when he does the right thing and helps her get it to the skimmer, Barrol gives 'em both the hard eye and cuts her down with a growl, "You can't take that." and walks off. While all this was going on, Jack and Nagia went back to the house for more plants. So there he was, alone with a teary eyed girl-child, trying to figure out what to do about it. He had just turned his face to the sky to ask the Blessed Mother to give him some help when She gave it without being asked. Lady came outa the house carrying some kinda box.  
  
He didn't even have to explain. She handed him the box she was carrying, the Imam's stuff she said, and got right to it. She flipped open the lid ah the trunk and began sorting through it. The first thing she brought out looked kinda like a guitar only shorter, with a fat rounded soundbox and four sets of double strings. She laid that to one side and dug into the trunk again. The next thing was one ah those fancy boxes, all padded like a sofa with pretty trim around it. She held that up to Mira.  
  
"What's this, Mira?"  
  
"A wedding robe. It was my mother's and my grand-mother's and my....  
  
Lady cut off the family history but she was gentle about it.  
  
"It's all right. That's irreplaceable."  
  
She put the box with the musical instrument and dug for more. It was another fancy box. This time Mira spoke up without being asked. Jeeter thought that her voice was getting stronger and her eyes seemed to be clearing up.  
  
"The mother's and baby's robes. For presenting the baby to the father and his family."  
  
That went into the pile, too. After a lot more digging, Lady pulled out a really fine, carved wooden box. It was about the same length as the plain one she had brought outa the house but nearly twice as wide and twice as tall.  
  
"My jewelry."  
  
Jeeter got a real familiar itch in his palms but stomped on it. You didn't thieve from your own. But he was still gonna try to get the child to give him a look inside that box. He wasn't just a jack-leg. He had a good eye and knew his stuff. Sometimes just being able to hold and look at the beautiful things was worth more than the money he'd got for 'em. Maybe he'd trade her a look at his part ah the haul from G's. That thought was like a flash in his brain. Damn, he finally had beautiful things that he wasn't gonna have to sell to live; beautiful things that would be there every time he wanted to look at 'em or touch 'em. He got lost in this idea until Lady's voice brought him out of it.  
  
"Second, .....Second!"  
  
"Huh, .. Yeah?"  
  
"First needs your help in getting the SOs out of the skimmer. We are going to re-arrange things a bit. We're going to load everything and everyone else and then put them in last, against the hatch. That way, if they give us trouble, we can pop it on the fly and dump them."  
  
She had raised her voice on that last. Jeeter knew why when he turned to help Barrol. The SOs were conscious. One ah 'em, a pasty faced hunk, was looking even more pasty. The other, a tall, slim but broad shouldered and well muscled red-head with skin as dark as his, didn't seem bothered at all. He even had a smile on his face like he approved ah Lady's thinking. That was gonna be the one to watch.  
  
They had just gotten the SOs out when Jack and Nagia returned with the last ah the plants and a small box ah Nagia's possessions. While he had been day dreaming, Lady had finished with sorting Mira's trunk and there were a few more items added to the keep pile. Mira seemed to be doing ok with it. Nagia's plants took up the rest ah the under-deck storage so, to save deck space, he and Barrol rigged a sling outa the cargo net and secured the rest ah the baggage against the roof ah the skimmer. It was time to load the sick one, the Imam. Jeeter was pretty curious for his first look at the man but things hit a snag when Lady told Barrol that she and Nagia were going to carry him out. Jeeter had to agree with Barrol when he told Lady that that didn't make any sense but he kept quite and let them rag it out.  
  
"He's extremely weak and has had to deal with enough already. I really think that his reunion with you should be postponed until he is stronger."  
  
"Does that mean that you agree with Jack about him, about the way he thinks about me?"  
  
"No. But I .."  
  
Jack angrily interrupted her.  
  
"How can you ..."  
  
Lady cut her off.  
  
"I can because you read him completely wrong! He made you dress in native robes to protect you from Sulleman's men. He took this away from you," She handed Jack a wicked looking shiv. "because he was afraid that you would try to take them on single-handed. Last, he never had any intention of forcing you to marry. He planned to get the money from the Emir to send you off planet to finish your education but that blew up in his face when this trouble with Sulleman started."  
  
She turned back to Barrol without waiting to see the shocked but embarrassed expression on Jack's pretty little face.  
  
"He's a loyal friend to you but ... you and he are still going to have issues and I don't think that it is good for either of you to get into them now. All you have to do is stay out of sight until we have him loaded. Lying down, he will be unable to see into the front of the skimmer. If you refrain from talking, he will not be aware that you are with us. Once aboard the ship, he will be restricted to the infirmary until his condition has improved and then the two of you can argue all you want."  
  
To Jeeter's relief, Barrol smiled. Placing his hands on Lady's shoulders, he shook her gently.  
  
"No wonder I like you, sweet thing, you have such a devious mind. I'm sure that you could pull this swindle off but that's not the way it's happening. The girls are going to load themselves and you and Jeeter and I are going to get Imam. I'll carry him and you and Jeeter can bring enough pillows or something to keep him off of that hard deck. I give my word that I'll play nice and not put a kink in his blood pressure no matter what he says."  
  
Lady gave Barrol a look ah exasperation but nodded her agreement and everything was fine again. Hell, what family didn't have its fusses. Jeeter could remember the fights a couple ah his uncles had gotten into. Get the two ah 'em in the same room for five minutes and the argument was on. But let one get into trouble. The other was first in line to help.  
  
When they reached the Imam's room, Lady motioned him into the room with her but made Barrol stay back outa sight.  
  
"Imam, it's time to take you to the skimmer but, first, I'd like to introduce you to my Second Officer, Jeeter."  
  
The old man nodded and Jeeter nodded back. Shit the guy was in bad shape. Jeeter could see why Lady didn't want him getting upset.  
  
"Now, my First Officer, Barrol. But you already know him very well."  
  
Lady stepped aside and Barrol walked into the room. The old man just stared at him. Sheeze, he didn't recognize him. Then Barrol rumbled at him.  
  
"Hello, holy man."  
  
"Richard?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"But your eyes ..... the hair .... I could have passed you in the street and not have known you."  
  
"That's the idea, holy man. Are you ready for this?"  
  
That got a smile outa the old man. Must be catch phrase between 'em.  
  
"Yes, I believe that now I am ready for this."  
  
Barrol walked over, bent down and picked up the old man. It didn't take him much effort to do it. As he turned, his friend cradled in his arms like a child, Jeeter got a good look at his face. His jaws were clinched, his eyes narrowed and hard; he looked like he wanted to kill something. The old man's condition must be getting to him bad for it to take that much effort to keep it from showing in his face. As he walked outa the room, Lady grabbed Jeeter's arm and pulled him toward the bed.  
  
"If we lay the comforter on the floor we can stack the top mattress and all the pillows on it. Then we can grab the corners to carry it."  
  
This worked fine but Jeeter found himself almost running as he tried to keep up with Lady on the way outa the house and across the courtyard. It was like she was trying to get to the skimmer and have the Imam's pallet set up for him before he got there. Well, she didn't do the impossible, just damn near. But the Imam seemed to be doing ok. His head was laid over on Barrol's shoulder and his eyes closed but he seemed more peaceful like than anything else. It was like the Big Guy being there was real good for him. Yeah, that was the way it was with families.  
  
They got the pallet made and Barrol set one foot inside the skimmer and stretched to his limit, making sure that Lady and Jeeter had a good solid hold on the Imam before he would let go. Then he still supported the old man's legs to make sure he got laid down easy as possible. Jeeter stayed in the skimmer and arranged the bodies as Barrol and Lady put the SOs in at the back; first Red-head and then Pasty. Nobody was being any too gentle this time.  
  
As the skimmer lifted off, Jeeter could see the moon just rising above the horizon. He check the chrono. It was hard to believe, after everything that had happened, that it was still almost four hours until sunrise. 


	22. Chapter 22 The Return to the Hole

Author's notes:  
  
'head'=restroom in ship talk. Also, I have been advised that I drop down to initials for things very easily. In answer to this, I will try to repeat definitions for any used at the beginning of each chapter. SO = Special Opps (Operations) referring to present and ex-members of this force. BC = Butch Cassidy, the name of the medium sized transport ship that is used to do planet landings that are impossible for the gigantic transport "The Hole in the Wall"; aka, the Hole. Sensei = a teacher, master, of martial arts.  
  
My thanks to the late Robert A. Heinlein for the term 'grok'.  
  
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THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 22 - The Return to the Hole  
  
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Riddick was seething. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was going on. The Emir sick and then Imam sick as soon as he's in charge of the girl; it had to be Sulleman! The fucking son of bitch was going to die! It might take Riddick a while to find a way to get to him but sometime, somewhere, he was going to die .... die bloody and hard!  
  
If killing the bastard damned Riddick's soul to Hell, that was fine. That would be where Sulleman was going and, when Riddick got there, he'd make a deal with the Devil so he could make Sulleman's eternity just that much worse. Who was that guy in the Greek stuff, Prometheus? Yeah, Prometheus. A vulture ate out his liver every day and it grew back every night. Well, he'd be Sulleman's vulture.  
  
Then, Jenna's hand was on his thigh: just there, a gentle squeeze, and then gone. It was a comforting, calming gesture and so alien to him that the shock of it broke his rage. When he turned to look at her, there was a tight, unpleasant smile on her face and she gave him an almost imperceptible nod. Fuck! It couldn't be. She couldn't have known what he was thinking. As if she sensed his disbelief, she typed something and then tapped the main info screen. He leaned close to her to look at it. He couldn't keep from chuckling softly at the message written on it.  
  
"There is always more than one way to skin a cat .... and a Sulleman .... be patient."  
  
It seemed that her 'the friend of my friend' attitude also extended to 'the enemy of my friend'. Riddick understood that last one but was still having doubts about the first. Dealing with enemies was no sweat; simple, clean and finished; a one time deal. But this 'friend' thing ..... did you really want to turn such a complicated, long term, emotionally expensive bond into a pyramid scheme? Maybe he should ask her if there was any limit to it; like third level, twice removed or some shit. But, that question could wait. something else was bothering him a lot more. He reach over and, using one finger on the keyboard, asked it.  
  
"How did you know?"  
  
He followed the words as she typed.  
  
"You are too intelligent not to figure it out. Besides, your eyes were burning holes in the windshield. What did you think? That I could read your mind?"  
  
He jerked his head around to look at her face. She was trying to look all wide eyed and innocent. The quiver of her lips, as she tried to suppress a wicked grin, totally ruined the effect. She began typing again and he turned back to the screen.  
  
"Nothing so strange. The only reason most people can't read you is because they are so frightened of what you might do if you caught them staring at you."  
  
Riddick knew it wasn't that simple. A lot of people had stared at him long and hard; mercs, guards, wardens, shrinks, even other convicts; and still hadn't figured out what he was thinking until it was too late. Jenna read people too well not to have something more working for her than most of the rest of the population. But, if she was more comfortable with the simple answer, that's the way it would be. Still, that grin really deserved some pay-back.  
  
With this in mind, he turned his face back toward hers. He was met with a very pointed scowl. "Don't you dare." was written all over Jenna's face. Ooops. Couldn't read his mind, huh? Well, she could read this. With serpentine deftness he flicked his tongue over the tip of her nose and quickly, very quickly, moved back to his own side of the skimmer. Her startled gasp gave him a nice, warm, wicked feeling. However, very soon, thoughts of Imam's horrible condition returned and his mood began a downward spiral, again.  
  
Imam had said that he wouldn't have recognized Riddick on the street. That went both ways. Three plus years ago at the New Mecca space port, he had left a strong, capable, middle-aged man stomping away from him in anger. Tonight he had picked up an ancient, wasted husk and carried it like a baby because the man couldn't even walk on his own. A clean kill was one thing but this ...... his stomach clinched and rolled and he tasted bile. Patient he could be but, in the end, he wouldn't settle for anything less than his type of retribution for Sulleman. Trying to keep himself from falling back into a full rage, he swiveled to check out the situation in the cargo space.  
  
He didn't have to use his night vision. Jenna had left the inner hatch lights on for Jeeter to be able to keep an eye on the prisoners. Riddick couldn't see Imam's face since his head was directly behind him but was reassured by the steady rise and fall of the man's chest. Imam's body formed a diagonal across the area. Jack, Mira and Nagia seemed to have found relatively comfortable positions in the section behind Jenna. The prisoners were laying across the back with their heads propped at an uncomfortable angle against the side wall near Imam's feet and Jeeter was sitting across their legs with his stunner in easy reach of their crotches. From the determined look on Jeeter's face, Riddick figured that if either man even twitched, he was going to regret it every time he tried to pee, for a very long time.  
  
Satisfied that everything was under control, he started to turn forward again only to be stopped by the fixed stare that the red-headed SO was giving him. When Riddick returned the stare, the red-head opened his mouth as if to speak but remained silent, flipping his eyes toward Jeeter and then back. Smart. Riddick decided to play along.  
  
"Second, the red-head wants to talk. Let him."  
  
As soon as Jeeter nodded in agreement, the SO spoke.  
  
"Permission to speak to the Captain."  
  
His phrasing confirmed Riddick's suspicions concerning his training; definitely ex-forces. And, from the way he was dealing with the situation, probably of rank. Lying on your back in an enemy skimmer, in your skivvies, tied hand and foot and with a stunner pointed at your dick would put most men a little off balance. From the corner of his eye, Riddick saw Jenna's tight nod.  
  
"Given. But make it count."  
  
"I've heard enough to know that you're going off planet. I'd like to warn the rest of my crew to do the same. With my and Klieg's bodies not with the others, Sulleman will butcher them for answers they don't have. Call it professional courtesy."  
  
The guy had to be dreaming. Jenna made no gesture so Riddick used his own reaction to answer.  
  
"Let you send a message straight to Sulleman's troop barracks, I don't think so."  
  
Red-Head didn't miss a beat.  
  
"We don't mix. We bunk in our ship at the space port. The message would go there."  
  
Riddick's opinion of the man had been growing steadily. That he kept his men separate from the locals, raised it even more. He might be a merc but he was no jack-leg, bottom crawler like Johns had been. He turned toward Jenna. This had gone far enough that it was her call for the rest of it. Her reaction didn't surprise him but he doubted the wisdom of it.  
  
"Who are you working for? Who sent you after the man and the girl?"  
  
Red-Head's eyes narrowed slightly. He was thinking too hard. Jenna's question had given him ideas which was exactly what Riddick had been afraid it would do.  
  
"If you don't know already, the answer won't mean anything to you."  
  
Jenna came right back at him.  
  
"What I do or do not know is not your concern. Your men are your concern. If you want the chance to save them, tell me what I asked. Call it a proof of good faith."  
  
The man's expression was priceless. Obviously, he hadn't expected a woman to play the game so tough. She had given him no clue as to what she knew. If anything she had given the impression that she did know and that lying to her wasn't a good idea. She had also made it very clear that he was the one in a very bad position with no option but to give her what she wanted to get what he wanted. He proved his allegiance to his men by giving in immediately.  
  
"My contact is with Rockland Parker."  
  
From the wry smile this elicited from Jenna, Riddick decided that Red-Head hadn't given up the game completely. He was certainly still in the dark as to who was paying the merc's bills. Jenna's reply made it clear that she wasn't.  
  
"That would be Parker of Murin, Morris, Murin and Parker?"  
  
Ok. Now Riddick knew where things stood. Jenna had been right about this MMM&P being involved and, from the full name, it had to be a law firm. With lawyers, everybody had to be in large print. Red-Head looked as if he had been kicked in the stomach.  
  
"Fuck! So you are Company!"  
  
Riddick could understand this reaction. Company goons weren't known for such niceties as 'professional courtesy'. But another reaction caught his full attention. At the assumption that they were Company, Pasty, aka Klieg, was suddenly in a much better mood; so much better, that he opened his mouth and taunted Red-Head.  
  
"Tough luck, Rafferty. Looks like your little butt buddy Charlie is dog meat."  
  
Rafferty's reaction was so fast that it was over before Jeeter could react. He flipped his bound body forward and then back. The back of his head impacted with Klieg's face with a sickening, fleshy crunching sound. Then, his eyes fixed on Jeeter's as reassurance, he moved slowly aside and was once more resting against the side wall. Klieg was bleeding heavily from the nose. His eyes, focused on the roof of the skimmer, slowly glazed over in a fixed death stare. The reactions of the rest of the inhabitants of the cargo space were mixed.  
  
Jeeter and Jack uttered exclamations of appreciation at the skill of it. Mira let out a small shocked shriek. Nagia was silently startled. Imam's "Allah, forgive." was the loudest and called Jenna's attention to the event.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
Riddick allowed himself a small chuckle.  
  
"It seems that Mr. Rafferty has eliminated a Company spy from his payroll. Pasty Face is dead."  
  
He could see her mind spinning as various scenarios occurred to her. He leaned close and whispered softly.  
  
"I'll tell you how he managed to do it later. Now, what are you going to do about his men? He's right about what Sulleman will do to them."  
  
"I know." Then she raised her voice to carry to the rear of the skimmer. "Mr. Rafferty, if you will give me the proper radio band and frequency and the necessary code words to prove that the message comes from you, I will warn your men."  
  
Rafferty couldn't seem to decide how to react to this. Surprise, disbelief, relief, distrust and a dozen more emotions flickered across his face. He finally settled on a what-have-I-got-to-lose look. He gave Jenna the band and frequency with the warning that they only used it to give Sulleman something to monitor; any real communication going through a scrambler that only a matching unit could utilize.  
  
"The code for such a f...... bad situation is 'the fat lady is singing'; the one for a bug out, 'party hardy'; mine is Big-R and the ship is Home Plate. Chris should be on the phone this shift. It's a two way. You'll have to play it by ear, Captain, but somehow I don't think you will have a problem with that."  
  
"Why, Mr. Rafferty, you say the sweetest things. Do you understand that if you make one sound, I will cut the transmission immediately?"  
  
"Understood."  
  
"Then I have one more question. It is a personal matter which I would not address under normal circumstances but I have agreed to give your men a fair warning. It is often true that emotion overpowers reason. Would a special warning to the man Klieg mentioned, to Charlie, to obey your orders and leave without you be appropriate to mention to another of your crew or not?"  
  
Riddick was surprised that Jenna had understood the meaning of Klieg's gutter slang but not nearly as surprised as Rafferty was at her considerate understanding of the situation. His eyes flicked from Riddick to Jeeter and back again. Riddick made sure to keep his expression easy but uninterested. As far as Riddick was concerned, as long as he knew what 'no' meant the first time he heard it, whichever side of the street a guy wanted to hang his dick on wasn't anybody's business but his own. Jeeter gave Rafferty a shrug that said the same thing. This seemed to confuse Rafferty even more. Most Company mercs were up-tight homophobic pricks; kind of like Klieg had been. Personally, Riddick thought that they just used it for another reason to kick the shit out of somebody. With a puzzled shake of his head, Rafferty answered Jenna.  
  
"My men are aware of my... personal life. I would appreciate the extra warning."  
  
It didn't take a minute for Jenna to have Rafferty's man on the radio.  
  
"This is Home Plate but you, pretty voice, don't sound anything like Big-R."  
  
Jenna gave a low sultry laugh.  
  
"I would hope not. I just need to give Chris a message from him."  
  
"Well, I'm Chris so what's the message?"  
  
"He's arranged some entertainment for you guys. He said to tell you that the fat lady is singing and all of you should party hardy."  
  
There was a long silence before the voice on the other end of the transmission answered.  
  
"When's Big R going to join the party?"  
  
Jenna gave another sexy laugh.  
  
"Oh, he's got his own party planned. Told me to tell you that anyone who spoils the fun he's arranged for the crew worrying about him will be the sorriest son of bitch on the face of New Mecca. That includes Charlie, most particularly Charlie. Well, got to go now. You guys have fun."  
  
Jenna cut the transmission before the disembodied 'Chris' could ask anything else. Rafferty, who had been stiffly alert throughout the conversation, uttered a relieved "Thank you.", relaxed back against the side wall and closed his eyes. The rest of the flight to the BC was made in silence, everyone deep in their own thoughts. When they arrived, Jenna hovered just outside of the hold doors and popped the skimmer hatch.  
  
"Second, dump the trash."  
  
Jeeter rolled Klieg's body out. As Jenna closed the hatch and pulled the skimmer into the BC's hold, the soft murmur of Imam praying could be heard. Jeeter and Rafferty exchanged glances with Riddick. They all three seemed to have the same opinion. Praying for Klieg was wasted effort. Riddick had a definite inclination to 'like' Rafferty. This made him even more wary of the man. Generating positive emotions was just as effective a way to manipulate situations and people as generating negative ones was; even more effective on the civilized side of the line. Rafferty was good; intelligent, quick thinking, patient and physically very dangerous. But, while he might be a very impressive one, he was still a merc; bringing in the bodies for the bounty.  
  
Preparations went quickly aboard the BC. With apologies for the necessity, Jenna ordered Rafferty blindfolded before allowing him outside the skimmer. Following her orders, Riddick and Jeeter escorted him to the head then secured him more properly with webbing restraints and webbed him into one of the bunks in one of the crew cabins. Imam was also assisted with personal needs and was made as comfortable as possible in another cabin with Nagia taking the second bunk so she could monitor his condition. Jack and Mira were assigned to a third then given a quick introduction to the compact galley and ordered to see to any food and drink for themselves and the others. This included Rafferty who would require their aid in eating and drinking since under no circumstance were they to touch his restraints.  
  
Riddick objected to this last. There was no way he wanted the two girls anywhere near Rafferty. Jack immediately took offense. Did he think she'd gone soft? Turned into some little twit who'd let a merc sweet talk her into letting him loose? If he tried anything funny, she'd let him go thirsty until his tongue split, even if he was as handsome as sin walking with his red hair and Latino skin. After all, it wasn't like she was his type, was it? Those last comments didn't set well at all with him but he had no choice but to withdraw his objection. He realized that he must have allowed his reaction to show when he saw that both Jenna and Jeeter were trying to hide smirky smiles.  
  
He retreated to the bridge and began to do the pre-liftoff check. Part of him, a big part, was screaming for him to get his ass back to the safe, comfortable, emotionless life that he had before. Screaming that this time was going to end just like every other time he had allowed himself to care. Just one more hell pit of pain, despair and loss that he would have to wall off and try to forget. But you couldn't forget them all the time. In the quiet hours they always came back, driving him out into the streets looking for something to block them off again. That had usually been when he had taken the bloodiest and most difficult contracts.  
  
He rubbed his hand over his head in frustration. The feel of thick hair under his fingers just added to it. He flipped on the bridge security camera and directed its image to the main viewer. For a few brief moments he stared at the man seated in the command slot. A neatly Fro-ed and bearded stranger with black-green eyes stared back at him. He canceled the image with an almost savage thrust at the control board. Fuck! It was no wonder Imam hadn't recognized him. He didn't even recognize himself any more.  
  
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Once she had instructed Jeeter in what to listen for and record of the local chatter, Jenna was more than happy to allow Riddick to order her into one of the empty bunks for the return trip to the Hole. For the next six hours, she slept the sleep of the dead. At top speed, the BC could have made the journey in less than a quarter of that time but the massive energy signature would have been impossible to conceal and the local authority would have taken serious interest in apprehending anyone hot-dogging it so far in-system. As it was, if it hadn't have been for the seriousness of the Imam's condition, Jenna would have been totally content with the required slower pace.  
  
Jenna was awakened by the change in the feel of the ship as Riddick matched with the Hole and docked in its hidden bay. After one long, luxurious stretch, she immediately pulled on her boots and weapons belts and went to the bridge. Waving Riddick to remain in the command slot, she took the first pilot slot and tied into the Hole's intercom system. Not wanting to take the time to chase anyone down she opened it ship wide.  
  
"Com Officer, Ship's Doctor and Ship's Chaplain are to report to the docking bay, ASAP. A stretcher ..... "Jenna had a further thought. "Correction, two stretchers will be required. Repeat. Com , Doctor and Chaplain to the docking bay with two stretchers."  
  
Rising and stepping away from the slot, Jenna began her usual morning Tai Chi Chuan exercises. She had never before had an audience other than Mr. Sen, whose interest was in her proper execution of the movements. Having Riddick, whose interest was distinctly otherwise, watching her was more that a little disconcerting. But, she persevered. Her mind might not be getting the full benefit but her body was. As he engaged her in conversation, she discovered that she was enjoying his appreciative looks. How interesting, a totally new use for Tai Chi Chuan.  
  
"Why the second stretcher? Rafferty going to the infirmary, too?"  
  
"No. It's for Nagia's plants. They should be given proper care as soon as possible."  
  
"What about Rafferty?"  
  
"He stays with us. It's time to inform Mr. Sen of everything that is going on. What will be done with Mr. Rafferty will be his decision."  
  
She could tell that this information didn't set well with Riddick. Since he didn't really know Mr. Sen, this was understandable. But, before she could open the subject, the sounds of Ben's panicked voice and pounding feet, as he ran through the BC, brought other matters to the fore.  
  
"Jen! Jen! Where are you?! Who's hurt?!"  
  
Before she could answer, he arrived on the bridge. After a quick scan, Jenna then Riddick and then Jeeter, the taunt lines in Ben's face relaxed into a wide grin.  
  
"I should have known that nothing could hurt you guys. What's up?"  
  
Without interrupting her exercises, Jenna smiled at him and answered.  
  
"We have additions to the crew and one of them is quite ill."  
  
Then, both Jack and Mira appeared at the bridge hatch and Jenna gave up on her Tai Chi Chuan. Motioning them in, she made the introductions and then got down to business.  
  
"Jack is our new Nav Officer, Ben, and your backup on the com. You'll have to bring her up to speed on every aspect of the ship's systems. She also has the information that we went to New Mecca to hack. That will have to be input and set up for Mr. Sen as will the local chatter recorded in the BC's system. Get Mr. Sen's stuff ready first, then help her and Mira get their uniforms and settle in to their quarters. Jack will be bridge personnel and let Mira choose some shirt color that hasn't been used since she hasn't been assigned a department yet. Label it Trainee and use a lower case 't' for the insignia. Trousers like Sasha's for both. Jack can have shiv, stunner and dagger but Mira hasn't qualified for any weapons yet."  
  
Ben looked at Jack somewhat skeptically.  
  
"Fragger or Freaker?" (two types of hackers)  
  
"Fragger. Freaking is small ball." (Freakers have no guts)  
  
"X-er. To the hack, Duo. To grok is to nova."  
  
(Excellent. Let's go see the system, partner. To see {understand} this system  
  
is to explode emotionally.)  
  
Mira looked totally confused as she followed the other two off of the bridge, still rattling away in hacker lingo. Jenna looked around. Riddick looked almost as confused as Mira but Jeeter seemed to have caught the meaning of most of it.  
  
"Those two hit it off good. Wonder if they'll remember to translate for Mira once in a while? Hackers can get real focused. Maybe I should tag along, keep 'em from zoning out?"  
  
Something about the tone of his voice told Jenna that it wasn't Mira's being shut out but the instant comradery between Jack and Ben that was really bothering Jeeter. She hoped that Riddick hadn't picked up on it. Nor, she was sure, was it a one way interest. All the time Jack had been on the bridge, she had been watching Jeeter out of the corner of her eye without ever looking at him directly. There was no more age difference between Jeeter and Jack than between her and Riddick but she was very sure that Riddick wouldn't see it that way.  
  
"No, I need you to help Nagia with her plants. After that you can drag the hackers out of the wiring and cover the bridge while they get to the uniforms and settling in. Barrol and I will join you as soon as we can. Since I was allowed to sleep and neither of you have mentioned anything, I assume that there has been no alert issued concerning our visit to New Mecca. That doesn't mean that there won't be. I want to Keller out of this system as soon as possible. Once we get into deep space, away from the traffic lanes, we can all get some down time."  
  
Jenna was looking forward to that prospect. She had just as much interest in pursuing some personal intentions as Jeeter did. After a life time lacking in such emotions, the constant sexual tension between herself and Riddick was reaching overload on her side of it. The memory of that little 'love lick' in the skimmer was still arousing her imagination. She had never thought that the tip of the nose could be such a sensual spot. As she led Jeeter and Riddick off of the bridge, she had great expectations for as swift and easy a disposal of the rest of the New Mecca additions as the first two. It didn't work out quite that easy.  
  
Mr. Sen was the next to arrive. Dressed in the saffron version of his uniform robe, he exuded a gentle elegance. It took very little time for Jenna to advise him about both the situation of the tracker and the tarantula and the events occurring on New Mecca. Jenna left out any details that pertained to Riddick's true identity and, though she could see that Maximus was aware of it, he asked no questions about it. Then she led him to the cabin where Rafferty was being held.  
  
Rafferty was un-webbed from the bunk and his blindfold and leg restraints removed. He greeted the knowledge that he was to be handed into the sole custody of Mr. Sen with a somewhat amused appraisal of the diminutive Asian. Maximus took one slight step forward and his right hand, two fingers extended, flashed toward Rafferty's midsection and retreated just as quickly. To the untrained observer, it would have seemed that he hadn't even touched the far larger man. Rafferty went to his knees, gasping for breath. When he was at last able to raise his head again, Mr. Sen gave him a most benign smile.  
  
"A small violence often prevents a larger one."  
  
This time Rafferty's expression was respectful. Jenna also noted that Riddick's and Jeeter's opinions of Mr. Sen had been suitably altered as well.  
  
"Yes, Sensei."  
  
He accepted Mr. Sen's aid in rising and then followed him, if not submissively at least compliantly, out of the cabin, through the BC's bay and into the Hole. It was clear that Rafferty no longer thought that they were Company and was going to refrain from any offensive action until he had a better understanding of who they really were. As Jenna watched them leave she also watched Syrus arrive. Struggling with the ungainly job of maneuvering two stretchers, he was definitely in a foul mood. The sight of Rafferty following on Mr. Sen's heels did nothing to improve this mood. Leaving the stretchers behind he walked up to Jenna with his usual graceful swagger.  
  
"My God, Na..... Jenna! What have you gotten yourself into now? You could have at least warned me to set up for triage if you had to start a war. I really must demand assistance if the body count is any higher than two. Your Captain's duties will have to be set aside."  
  
This last was said with no little disdain for such, to Syrus, an unimportant endeavor. Jenna returned his sneering scowl with an affectionate smile. He had chosen an open shirt with very dressy lace ruffling on the collar and cuffs and the uniform made him look quite handsomely sinister, very much the deadly dandy. The thin sabre he carried on his right hip proclaimed that even his handedness was 'sinister'. She was sure that he was not only aware of but had intentionally engineered the whole of this effect. It had been Syrus who had introduced her to the genres of historical adventure and epic legends.  
  
"Now what makes you think I started a war?"  
  
"Well, you have, haven't you? Or did I not see a nearly naked, bound POW with Max? And, do I not have casualties to treat?"  
  
Jenna explained the New Mecca situation to him and led him to the Imam. Riddick followed, bringing one of the stretchers. Jeeter took the other and headed for the skimmer. After a short examination, Syrus came to the same medical conclusion that Jenna had. Jenna, Syrus and Nagia then adjourned to the skimmer to discuss the plants and the new addition of a pharmacist/nurse to Syrus' staff; allowing Riddick privacy to see to the Imam's needs and transfer him to the infirmary stretcher. It was then that another, very serious, complication was added to Jenna's plate.  
  
As Syrus and Nagia conversed about the herbs and her previous experience in both herbology and the care of the sick, Syrus voiced dismay at the extent of the Imam's deterioration and a complaint concerning the time that would be lost in the necessary testing to discover the exact nature of the poison used on him. Jenna had already noticed that Nagia had been extremely withdrawn during the medical examination and during the present conversation. At Syrus' pessimistic diagnosis for the Imam, her face twisted in an agony of remorse. With shaking, fumbling hands, she pulled two large vials from her robes and shoved them into Syrus' hands.  
  
"The larger is the poison; the smaller, the antidote. I have given the Imam one dose of it but ......... the cleansing process is long and arduous to the body. I ..... I have little hope that it will succeed in preserving him."  
  
Turning quickly away from Syrus' astounded and condemning glare, she knelt in front of Jenna.  
  
"It is I who have been poisoning the Imam. I surrender myself to your judgement."  
  
Her head was turned downward and her neck extended as if she expected Jenna to unsheathe the Saracen and behead her on the spot. 


	23. Chapter 23 Let Each Be His Own Judge

Author's notes:  
  
Apartment assignments;  
  
Jenna Riddick Jeeter Jack Ben xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx Jeff Sasha-David  
  
Nagia Syrus Mira Imam Sen xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx xxxx  
  
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And NN and Genna - a special gift for both of you.  
  
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THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 23 - Let Each Be His Own Judge  
  
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Jenna stared at the kneeling Nagia. If the woman expected summary judgement, that wasn't what she was going to get. She also knelt.  
  
"Why?"  
  
Nagia's head tilted up and she shied back at finding Jenna's face so close to her own. A confusion of thought passed behind her golden eyes before she settled on one.  
  
"You are the Captain."  
  
Jenna, satisfied with the mental stimulation her short, undefined question had provided, clarified it.  
  
"No. Why did you poison the Imam and why have you now repented it?"  
  
Nagia's face filled with disbelief. That anyone other than another slave would be interested in the motives of a slave was something completely outside of her experience. Her questioning expression was so intense that Jenna gave her a nod to assure her of the truth of it. Still, it was several moments before she decided to trust it enough to answer.  
  
"I have a daughter. She is only ten years old. Sulleman threatened to sell her to a .......to a ......"  
  
Nagia's head dropped again. She couldn't force herself to finish. And, it really wasn't necessary that she did. There wasn't anyone there who had any doubt as to what the nature of Sulleman's threat had been. Jeeter was looking murderous; another who would now want a personal hand in nailing down the lid of Sulleman's coffin. Syrus, whose Hippocratic Oath was his God, was looking with compassion on this most extreme blasphemer. Syrus didn't have much use for most adults but children never received even a whisper of his nasty temper.  
  
"And if you succeeded?"  
  
Slowly Nagia continued; her voice as hopeless as her posture.  
  
"If I were to do this thing, he promised to free her; to send her to my family."  
  
This raised another question for Jenna.  
  
"Your family? Then you were not born a slave, were you?"  
  
"No. I was sold for my husband's debts. It was he who had trained me in the use of herbs. I was carrying Sissua then. It was only because of the value of my training that I was allowed to keep her with me."  
  
These revelations opened up a great many more questions; most especially how she had come to be in Mira's service from Sulleman's and if she had also been involved with the Emir's illness. However, those questions would wait until later. That Nagia had not been born into her slavery gave Jenna a deeper understanding of the woman. She led Nagia to the second part of her question.  
  
"And now?"  
  
Nagia's hands had been knotted together. Now, she raised one to heavily massage her forehead.  
  
"You have taken Mira out of Sulleman's reach. Whether the Imam dies or not will not give him what he wants. I can only pray that what you have done will so occupy his mind that he will not remember that my Sissua exists."  
  
There was no doubt as to where Nagia's loyalty lay. The only way to insure her further good behavior would be to tie it to the welfare of her daughter. Giving her some hope of being able to do something about that welfare was also the only way to get her off of her knees begging for death to release her from her impossible situation. Jenna had no trouble making her judgement of Nagia. Which was the worse sin: poisoning a stranger or failing to do everything in your power to protect your child. Or any child, for that matter. She stood up.  
  
"That seems a logical possibility. Pawns are often forgotten when the Royal Row attacks. Has it occurred to you, Nagia, that, now that you are free, you no longer need to be a pawn? Your pay as Ship's Pharmacist will be Inner Systems Guild rate; a goodly amount by New Meccan standards. Once we are sure that Sulleman's attention is directed elsewhere, with the help of the Imam's contacts, it might be possible for you to purchase Sissua without Sulleman knowing that it is you who buys her."  
  
"But ............ you can not mean to ................. after what I .............? No! You only torture me with what can not be! You are even crueler that Sulleman! Judge me and be done with it."  
  
Nagia had raised her head and was staring at Jenna defiantly; daring her to take revenge on such a contemptuous slave. Jenna laughed. There was a hard edge to it that made Jeeter look surprised and Syrus give her a nod of understanding.  
  
"Nagia, you have no idea of how cruel I really am. You'll get no judgement from me. Judge yourself. If you think that your Sissua will be better off motherless, then crawl over to those herbs and chew on whatever will give you your easy way out. If you are still willing to face the pain of life and do whatever you can for her, then stand up and start acting like a crewman of the 'Hole In The Wall' should act. But, if you do stand up, I never want to see you on your knees to anyone again. If I do, I'll put you off on the next settled planet we come to!"  
  
Jenna turned to Jeeter.  
  
"I'm going to my quarters to bathe and change uniforms. I suggest that you and First do the same and then join me on the bridge."  
  
Without even glancing at the still kneeling Nagia, Jenna strode out of the BC. What she had done was shock therapy at it's most basic. She would leave it to Syrus to smooth the edges of it and answer all the questions Nagia would need answered. It wasn't until she reached her apartment that she remembered that all the uniforms were still in the bridge lounge. She intercomed the infirmary and left a message requesting that Jeeter and Riddick bring them to the apartment level. Then, she called Ben and requested that he voice code the apartment next to hers for Riddick and the next one for Jeeter and enter 'First' and 'Second' on the id panels of the doors.  
  
When Ben jokingly threatened to change hers to 'Captain', she told him to do just that and to change all the others to the crew position of their occupants. Then, she assigned apartments: the Imam, next to Mr. Sen; Mira, the next; Nagia, on the other side of Syrus from the Imam's; and Jack next to Ben's. Reflecting on the favorable circumstance that she, Mr. Sen, Syrus and Ben had preferred apartments on the other end of the corridor from the trio, she set her outer door to open to Riddick and Jeeter for the delivery of the uniforms. Securing the door of her bathroom behind her, she began to draw a lilac scented bath.  
  
Stripping quickly, she lowered herself into the tub while the water was still tepid and luxuriated in the sensation as it slowly warmed to the upper limit of human tolerance. It was heavenly. What the six hours of sleep had done for her mind, the steaming water now did for her body. At the height of her relaxation, the intercom chimed loudly. Frowning at the interruption but thanking the foresight that had provided a unit close at hand even in the bath, she opened the voice channel. Suddenly, she was at a loss as to how to answer it. After a second's hesitation, she chose the formal mode.  
  
"Captain here."  
  
"Ah yes, my child, and what an excellent one you are. You have more than lived up to my expectations for you."  
  
The self-congratulatory tone of Mr. Sen's voice caused Jenna to smile ruefully.  
  
"Dr. ... Mr. Sen. Am I to assume that you had written my assumption of authority over the ships into your plans before I was even aware of its possibility?"  
  
"There was a high probability of it from the first, my dear. The more deeply you became emotionally involved with the construction and preparation of the ships the greater that probability became. The colony was never your dream of sanctuary; nor should it have been. You were forced into the Institute by circumstance. It wasn't something you chose, like the rest of us, because the world outside was tedious or frightening. But I must say that your outside associations, most particularity with our First and Second Officers, have precipitated it sooner than I expected. Propitious, very propitious. Most especially since it resulted in the acquisition of Mr. Rafferty. Which brings me to the reason for disturbing you. I have a small request. Would it be possible for us to remain here, in close proximity to the availability of Hyper-communication until Ben can re-establish our com abilities?"  
  
Jenna considered this. With the Hole's shielding, their being detected, even by a concentrated search, was highly unlikely. A visual search just wouldn't be something that would be considered. The human race had become too depended on their electronic extensions to think of using their own limited senses. There was also the fact that the last thing anyone would expect, once they discovered that the Imam and Mira had not been transported to some other part of New Mecca, would be for those who had taken them off planet to remain in the New Meccan system. Staying here in hiding was probably a much safer plan than her own had been.  
  
"Have you checked with Ben to see how long it might be before he can do that?"  
  
"Oh yes. He and our new Nav Officer have already located the foreign creature's programming and are ascertaining what information it was to search out and transmit. He assures me that the com will be cleared within two hours. I, however, may need a little longer than that to organize the messages I wish to send and the replies I expect will take a great deal longer to collect. There may be a need for several exchanges of messages. It depends heavily on Ben's report of what information has been compromised. May I recommend that you take a little leisure time. It may be that my inquiries will necessitate another speedy departure when they are completed."  
  
Lying limp as a noodle in her steaming bath, Jenna saw deep wisdom in this last suggestion. Agreeing to Mr. Sen's plan, she contacted both Jeeter and Riddick and advised them that they were off duty until advised otherwise. She then contacted Ben to make arrangements to take Jack and Mira off of his hands and get them settled in and to apologize for the fact that he would get no relief until Mr. Sen and completed his project since no one but Ben could handle the routing necessary to keep anything from being tracked.  
  
She found that she needn't have bothered. Mr. Sen had already assigned Sasha, as Environmental Enhancement Officer, the duty of settling in all the new arrivals and Jack was returning as soon as possible to assist Ben with the transmittal and collection of Mr. Sen's correspondence. It also seemed that they weren't in as bad a position as they had feared. Ben informed her that all the tarantula had been programmed to transmit was their location. Everything else, identities and all, were still secure and operative. They could take an orbit around New Mecca right now as the heavy transport 'The Hole In The Wall' and no one would question their identity. More importantly, all of their secret caches and investments of funds were safe and available.  
  
Jenna didn't want to dampen Ben's enthusiasm so she didn't voice her opinion that she would only be sure things were that good when Mr. Sen confirmed it. Instead, she told him that because of what had occurred on planet she still wanted to keep the ship's security on high alert until Mr. Sen had finished his business and they had time to decide on what future course of action was best. She chit-chatted with Ben for a few more minutes and was about to end the conversation when he said something that surprised and pleased her perhaps even more than the solution of the tarantula.  
  
"You know, Jen, I really thought that you had gone over the edge when you gave Sasha that title and made out like it was such a big deal. But, I was wrong. I've been watching on the security cameras and she's really serious about it. Wait until you see the new paint jobs, furniture and decorations in the common rooms. She's had Jeffie and David working like gang labor re-doing them. Meals on a schedule, too, and she made sure I got a plate from the main dinning hall every one of them. Even brought me a change of clothes and some personal stuff I wanted. And not one attempt to get me to say anything about what was going on with you guys. It may all be an act but it is sure a lot easier to put up with than her old one. How did you know?"  
  
Jenna gave a small chuckle.  
  
"If you will remember Ben, that's my vocation; to know about people. Sasha is a born hostess and social planner. She was a royal bitch because the life we led at the Institute was smothering her, boring her to death. But, if you want her to stay nice, you better attempt to be very complimentary about the things she does. If she starts getting bored again, we'll have the old Sasha back."  
  
"Oh. Don't want that at all. But how many times can she re-do the commons before that happens? You better think up some more ways to keep her busy."  
  
"She'll have a new theme to decorate for every week. I'm hoping that will do for a long time. Call me if anything important happens. Ok?"  
  
"Ok, ah ....... I'm glad you're back, Jen."  
  
"So am I, Benji, so am I."  
  
Jenna switched off the intercom and relaxed back in the tub once more. Well, she had that down time she had been wanting a lot sooner than she had expected to have it. Suddenly she was apprehensive. So far, everything that had happened between her and Riddick had been ....... she searched for the word to express what she was feeling. She finally settled on 'spontaneous'. There had always been some reason, some external purpose for their being together. But now ........ Now, there would be only one reason that either of them would seek out the company of the other. This time there would be nothing to interrupt, nothing to limit what happened. Jenna's heart began to beat wildly but it wasn't excitement, it wasn't arousal; it was fear.  
  
All the things she had read suddenly meant nothing, had no value. What if she wasn't ......... What if he wasn't ........... What if it wasn't ......... Then even worse thoughts. What was she supposed to do? Wait for him to come to her? What if he didn't? Would that mean he didn't want her or that he wanted her to come to him? Had it all been a tease? And if she did go to him? What the hell did you wear to knock on a man's door and ask if he wanted to ......to ...... Oh, God! Why couldn't he have just let it happen while they were in hyper; just let it happen!  
  
When it came to fight or flight, Jenna was definitely the 'fight' type. The adrenalin began pumping. She quickly finished her bath by washing her hair. Jerking herself out of the tub, she toweled herself dry with such vigor that her ivory skin took on a pink tint. Wrapping the towel around her, she flung open the bathroom door and stalked into the bedroom. She was brought up short by the sight that was framed in the doorway to the living room; a broad back and bare arms, revealed by a tank style shirt, a very manly butt and strong muscular legs, covered by taunt black trousers. Riddick was bent over, leaning on his arms, his head invisible behind his body, studying the contents of the console holding the spools of her favorite musical recordings. He spoke without changing position.  
  
"It's your music. What would you like to hear?"  
  
There was something odd in his voice but Jenna was too relieved to have part of her fears disappear to really hear it. She struggled with his question, her mind frantically searching for any music she might have that could be considered suitable to what was about to happen. The only spool number she could remember was that of the melancholy ballads of love, death, magic and fate of the ancient Celts; perhaps because they were her favorites when she needed solace. She blurted it out just to end the silence.  
  
As the haunting notes of the first melody twined around her, Riddick turned, straightened and walked toward her. She took a step back. Her mind fought to find something familiar in the stranger approaching her with the graceful stealth of the hunter.  
  
"You were telling the truth, weren't you? You didn't download my picture."  
  
Even the voice gave her nothing to help. Still deep and rumbling but so cold and hard, like granite against iron.  
  
"No. I didn't."  
  
"Maybe you should have."  
  
Jenna stared at his face; its strong planes, no longer softened by beard or mustache, were made even harder by the snarling smile that twisted his full, sensual lips into thin lines. The skin of his scalp was also clean shaven and revealed the perfect death's-head contours of his skull. The shades he no longer needed hid his eyes as they had the first night they met. His too strong arms reached out. The muscles bulked as he pulled her roughly against him. Standing barefoot, without the equalizing platforms of her boots, he loomed over her. His hand captured her neck; his thumb laying easy but threateningly on her throat.  
  
"Maybe your dreams of 'Rick' wouldn't have been so sweet with this face in them; the face his victims saw just before they died."  
  
Then, Jenna understood.  
  
"I never dreamed about 'Rick'."  
  
Riddick laughed at her; a nasty laugh, full of derision.  
  
"All that fuss and letter writing but no dreams? I think you're lying, sweet thing."  
  
"Oh, there were dreams, all right, but not about 'Rick'. They were about Richard B. Riddick and ....... they weren't about love; they were about combat."  
  
Jenna knew that she had made a solid strike. Riddick's hold on her loosened slightly. The deepening of the lines in his face told her that his eyes had narrowed. His whispered reply was barely louder than a breath.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Combat ........... of the mind. A battle of intellect and will. The ultimate game that the yoyos were never able to provide you with a suitable opponent to play. But you're right ...... "  
  
The loosening of his hold on her had given her arms more freedom. She began to wander her hands along the planes of his sides and chest.  
  
"...... I should have downloaded your pictures. Your body ......."  
  
She increased the pressure of her fingers as she traced the patterns of muscles beneath the silky tank. Her hands moved higher, flexing across his shoulders.  
  
"..... Your face ........"  
  
She moved her hands to massage the tight ropes in his neck. Then, upwards again to caress hard jaw and cheek bones, trace the curves of his ears and finally to stroke the smooth, shorn scalp. Through it all, he stood immobile. His muscles tensed as if to prevent any reaction to her touches.  
  
".... Then, I think, my dreams would have been something very different ....... much sweeter, not less."  
  
Her hands settled; one at the nape of his neck; the other just above, cradling the base of his skull. She subtly urged him to lower his head toward hers. He resisted. Releasing her neck, he snatched the shades off and hurled them aside. His hands closed on her upper arms. His eyes bored into hers; dark-storm eyes that he had allowed her to choose for him.  
  
"How can you ......"  
  
In her mind, Jenna filled in the words he couldn't say.  
  
"You were never ... never ... anything less than human to me."  
  
A moan? A growl? It continued to rumble from him and into her as his lips crushed against hers; as his tongue battered for entry and she welcomed it; as their bodies and minds burned like hell's fires as each fanned the furnace they had created within the other.  
  
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Author's note: No, I am not going to just fade into a sunset or rolling waves or any such thing. I have continued this in a seperate chapter for the benifit (?) of those readers under 17. The next chapter will definitely be 'R' rated. All readers under 17, please skip the next chapter. Nothing instrumental to the plot will be missed just the sex. That said, if I remember what I read in my young teen years correctly, this limitation is patently absurd. But, that's the way it is.  
  
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	24. Chapter 24 An End and a Beginning

This chapter is definitely 'R' rated. No one under 17 allowed. No one offended by adult content allowed. That said, I just hope it is worth all the warnings.  
  
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THE MOTHER LOAD BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 24 - An End and A Beginning  
  
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Jenna had never felt anything like this in her life. Even the intensity she had felt from Riddick in hyper was a pale shadow compared to this. There was something primal that had not been there before.  
  
His arms circled her, crushed her against him. The hard length of his erection pressed against her belly. She felt the briefest flash of anxiety. Oh, God it felt huge. Was that normal? But the thought was pushed aside as new sensations demanded her attention.  
  
Reaching beneath the towel, Riddick's hands roughly stroked her back. Then, he grasped the cheeks of her butt. His strong hands kneaded and squeezed as he pressed her more tightly against him. Straightening, he lifted her; sliding her up his body. In an instinctive reaction, she wrapped her legs around him. The fabric of his trousers was almost harsh against the tender skin between her legs as she rode the ridge of his arousal. Moans mixed and clashed as mouths sought to devour each other and tongues twined like snakes.  
  
Riddick carried her to the bed. Kneeling on one knee, he coaxed her to loosen the grip of her legs and then her arms as he lifted her away from him and laid her down. In the process, her towel fell away, sliding to the floor. As Riddick stood over her, staring with possessive hunger at her naked body, Jenna suddenly felt too vulnerable. A deep blush colored her face. She wrapped her arms across herself, covering breasts and pubis.  
  
The hard planes of Riddick's face softened slightly. He bent and picked the towel off of the floor and spread it across her.  
  
"Scoot over, sweet thing."  
  
Clutching the towel to her, Jenna slid to the center of the large bed. But, her eyes never left Riddick as he turned his back to her and sat down on the edge of the bed. The play of his huge shoulder and back muscles fascinated her. Once he had removed his shoes and socks, he stood and faced her again.   
  
A small smile played across his lips as he unbuckled his belt and then unbuttoned the waistband of his trousers. Slowly, he worked the tail of the tank out of his trousers and raised it up his body, finally pulling it off over his head and dropping it to the floor.  
  
As the tank slipped from the tips of his fingers, he laid his other hand against his chest. As soon as he was sure that Jenna was focused on it, he moved it in languid curves down his chest until it reached the unbuttoned fly. As if deciding he had teased her enough, he brought his other hand over, quickly unzipped the fly, let his trousers drop away to the floor and stepped out of them.  
  
Standing there in nothing but silky black shorts, he was the most beautiful thing that Jenna had ever seen. His tall, broad body, every inch defined by muscle and layered with tawny skin, radiated power and prowess. Then her eyes focused on his erection, barely sheathed in the thin fabric. They widened and her breath became broken. It looked even larger than it had felt. She tried to shove that thought aside as she raised her eyes to Riddick's face. Finding him smiling with amusement, she met it with a false bravado of defiance and challenge.  
  
With animal grace, he moved onto the bed and stretched out beside her, supporting himself on one elbow. His free hand began playing idly with a dark curl of her hair that had fallen over her forehead.   
  
"You weren't lying about this either, were you? You're a virgin."  
  
Jenna felt herself blush again.  
  
"I never said ......."  
  
Riddick turned his attention from the curl he was teasing to her face.  
  
"No, but your eyes did; first in the bar and again just now. This is a hell of a time to ask but are you sure you want to do this? You must have had some reason not to have done it before."  
  
Jenna knew he was asking for that reason and she knew, she finally knew, what that reason was. It sang within her like a wild bird freed from a snare. But it wasn't the right time to share it with him; not now; maybe never.  
  
"Yes, I am sure."  
  
Riddick's eyes narrowed slightly and some emotion that Jenna couldn't read flickered for an instant in them. Then, he lowered his lips to hers.  
  
It was a gentle kiss. Soft lips caressed and then retreated as his tongue traced the pattern they had made. He continued this up the line of her jaw, across her eyes and down the other jaw. Jenna's anxiety melted away as the tender sensuality of his caresses enveloped her. As her tense posture eased, Riddick moved his mouth to her neck, dragging the sharp edges of his teeth along the vein and artery pumping with lifeblood. Then he fastened them around her trachea, a shadow of danger, as his tongue traced its path.  
  
Jenna, her eyes closed from his first kiss, savored this new sensation. Unlike the other, this feeling of vulnerability was exciting. Odd that embarrassment would be threatening and death exciting. But then, the embarrassment real and the threat of death only a game. She shivered with thrill-fear as his teeth played with her throat.  
  
Slowly, he kissed and tongued his way down the center of her chest, his hand teasing the towel out of his way until her breasts were completely bare. Then, Jenna felt him lean further across her. Before her mind could form the though, the tip of his tongue flicked rapidly back and forth across her nipple. A wave of sensation rolled over her. Her breath caught. She opened her eyes to find Riddick, his head turned slight sideways, watching her.  
  
With a predatory smile, he ran his tongue around his lips and then extended it toward her nipple again. Mesmerized, she watched his tongue flick, circle and lick her. Her body quivered from the exquisite touch; her mind from the erotic sight. 'Wicked', 'evil', 'immoral'; where those words came from she had no idea but they excited her even more.  
  
Lifting her eyes to Riddick's face, she found those thoughts mirrored in his satyr like expression. With a moan, she allowed her head to fall back and surrendered. If this was sin, then heaven be damned.  
  
Riddick now added lips and teeth to his assault. First, only small, sucking kisses and brief sharp edged touches as his tongue continued its teasing. Then, broader kisses, sucking her deeper and deeper into his mouth, and longer paths glazed by his teeth.  
  
Jenna's body responded of its on volition, writhing beneath him. She could feel the moisture oozing from her vagina coating her to her outer lips. Her clit swelled in empathy. She clamped her legs tightly together, trying to control the aching need.  
  
Suddenly his mouth released her. But, before Jenna could utter a moan of protest, a new assault began. His tongue was on her nipple again, not flicking this time but laving it. Then with pursed lips, he blew on it.  
  
It was ice. Jenna's whole world became ice. Her already taut nipple hardened impossibly. Nerve ends sparked throughout that side of her chest and deep within her belly. Her body arced. The arm, already lying in the space beneath Riddick's body, moved upward and her fingers taloned against his back. But, as her other arm tried to rise to embrace him fully, he restrained it; keeping her spread against the mattress.  
  
Then his mouth was on her again. Warmth melting the ice; wonderful sucking, flicking, warmth. Then the warmth disappeared and all was ice again. Over and over, Riddick alternated the two. He controlled her body; bringing it to tense arcing and then sagging respite and arcing again.  
  
The only part Jenna seemed to have any control over was her head. This, she lashed back and forth as moans and unconnected words escaped her mouth in a litany of pleas. Then, just when she was becoming certain that she couldn't stand any more of it, he stopped.  
  
He began gently stroking her side from armpit to thigh; soothing, calming, relaxing strokes. Jenna felt her heartbeat slow, her muscles loosen. Her breathing steadied. Then tears began running from the corners of her eyes.  
  
Riddick kissed her eyes, drinking her tears. He repeated the easy caresses of lip and tongue that he had started with. Soon, Jenna was floating in a fog of gentle euphoria. Even the fire between her legs had soothed to a mild ache.  
  
She didn't even notice when Riddick's hand left off its stroking and reached once more to restrain her free arm. She watched with mild curiosity when he lifted his face from hers and shifted his body slightly. Then he licked his lips and began lowering his head toward her other breast. Her breathing was labored and her heart racing before he made his first touch.  
  
He kept the pattern the same; the teasing flicks, the small kisses, then deeper and deeper sucking; every step in the slow escalation in intensity. But the effect was so much greater than before as the expectation of what was to come increased the stimulation of even the smallest touch. By the time he reached the first icy breath, Jenna's arousal was already almost as fierce as it had been when he had stopped before.  
  
But now, somewhat initiated, she was more consciously in control. She also had some definite ideas about some changes in Riddick's game plan. In his intent to pleasure her, he was shutting down his own emotions. Jenna felt cheated. She wanted more from him. She wanted that intensity that had been there in the beginning. She wanted him to burn as fiercely as she burned.  
  
She had little control while his icy breath drove her to arching frenzy. But, once his warm mouth had easy it, she intentionally arched, pushing her breast hard against his lips. Using the one thing she could think of that might influence him, she breathed his name.  
  
"Riddick ........... please, Riddick .... want me."  
  
Her terse plea shouldn't have made any sense but Riddick understood her completely. Her words opened the door of the cage and the beast of his need lunged free. His mouth turned hungry. His teeth captured her tightly. His tongue no longer flicked but lashed. His lips sealed around her and his sucking pulsed as if he would feed from her. His hand captured her other breast, squeezing and pulling, the thumb chaffing that nipple as his tongue did the other.  
  
His heat inflamed Jenna's. Her belly became Vulcan's furnace; her clit and inner and outer lips white coals; lava flowed from her to bathe them. With her now freed hand, she grasp the back of his head, holding herself tightly against his mouth. With the other hand, she tried to capture a butt cheek and force his pelvis against hers.  
  
The slick fabric of his shorts thwarted her. It filled her hand with its own slithery folds and refused to allow her a firm hold on the flesh beneath. Moans of frustration mingled with panting passion. Her mind was drowning in a pool of need. Bringing both of her hands to the waistband of the shorts, she struggled to pull them down and away only to have them snag and resist.  
  
When Riddick's hand left her breast to reach between them, she realized that the waistband had snagged on. She immediately started to flush. This angered her. My God, she was behaving like some juvenile little twit. There was more, it seemed, to ending one's virginity than the obviation of a small piece of tissue. Her resolve stiffened and she reached up and grasped the biceps of his arm.  
  
"No."  
  
Riddick raised his head and looked at her questioningly. When Jenna moved her hand to his chest and pushed gently, a speculative smile curved his lips and he allowed her to maneuver him into the position she wanted. They ended up with him laying where she had been and Jenna kneeling beside him. As she shifted, Jenna's towel had fallen away. Resisting the urge to conceal herself again, she tossed it off of the bed instead.  
  
As she stared down at Riddick, the image of this massive and powerful man laying supine and compliant gave Jenna a sensual rush that almost took her breath away. With the same reverence one might feel for a perfectly carved marble statue, Jenna began tracing the pattern of muscles across his chest, shoulders and arms. But Riddick was warm flesh not cold stone. Warm responding flesh.  
  
After watching her for a brief moment, he relaxed and closed his eyes. As he allowed himself to concentrate on his own sensations, his face became unusually expressive. Jenna alternated between tracing fingers and stroking palms, watching his face for clues so guide her. She soon realized that this was a novel situation for Riddick. It was obvious that he had taken some effort to understand how to pleasure a woman. It saddened Jenna that it seemed that so few had ever attempted to do the same for him. Then it occurred to her that possibly he had never trusted many enough to allow it. That was even sadder.  
  
Jenna became determined to give him as much pleasure as she could. All that reading of romance novels was finally going to serve a useful purpose. As she continued massaging with one hand, she extended a finger from the other and flicked one of his nipples with the sharp edge of the nail. A small but explosive gasp rewarded her. She repeated the move with the other nipple. This time his chest muscles ripples and a definite twitch tented the fabric of his shorts. Oh, nice.  
  
Feeling totally wicked, Jenna lowered her mouth to the closest nipple. Sucking it tall, she nibbled it. The effect was wonderful. Riddick actually arched a little.  
  
"Damn!"  
  
More than that, Jenna found this excited her as much as Riddick. Oh, Lord, she loved the taste of him, the feel of his hard nub against her teeth and tongue. She attended his other nipple with even more enthusiasm. As she did so, she felt his erection against the side of her arm. Oh .... Oh, yes .....   
  
Straightening, she reached again for the waistband of the shorts. Riddick immediately reacted, lifting his hips off of the mattress. Keeping her eyes purposefully unfocused, Jenna drew the shorts down his body and legs. They followed the towel to the floor.  
  
Starting at his feet, Jenna slowly moved her eyes and hands upward; not rushing, letting the anticipation build for both of them. With every sign of the pleasure Riddick was experiencing, her courage grew. As she came to his inner thighs, his breath was becoming noticeably ragged. When he shifted his legs farther apart to give her better access, there was a slight jerkiness to his movements. Nor could she ignore his erection any longer. It was standing well away from his belly and was swaying and bouncing in its own show of appreciation.  
  
Even though her medical training in this subject had been strictly book work because of her age, Jenna knew what a penis looked like. Well, she had thought she did. But none of that had prepared her for this.  
  
It was beautiful.  
  
A beautiful cylinder of flesh, vined with thick veins. The shaft was darker than the rest of his honey toned body and the head even darker still. The ebony, tightly curled hair at its base was night against sunlight. A drop of milky fluid hovered in the slit of its head. Following an instinctive urge, Jenna lowered her head and, flicking out her tongue, tasted it.  
  
Riddick arched off of the mattress. His hand fastened on her thigh almost painfully. His voice was a growling hiss.  
  
"Yessss! ... Oh, fuck, yessss!"  
  
Jenna licked the slit again and then swirled her tongue around the head. Riddick flexed his hips, pushing himself against her lips. She had a brief second of panic. What was she supposed to do now? The absurdity of that thought hit her and she almost laughed aloud. She was quite sure that Riddick was capable of telling her if she was doing something wrong. She wrapped her lips around him and sucked him deep into her mouth.  
  
Then it was candy stick and lollypop time. And what wonderful candy it was. Velvet skinned, iron cored candy. Candy that enjoyed being sucked and licked and even gently nipped. What wonderfully animal sounds he made; each one urging Jenna on and adding to her pleasure in the act. Soon she was squirming with her own need fully aroused once again. Then she felt Riddick's hand on her butt.  
  
"Don't stop, sweet thing. But ..... you need something, too. Shift around and straddle my face."  
  
Oh, God, Oh God, Oh God. To pull her splintering thoughts together, Jenna concentrated on her attentions to his penis and allowed Riddick to guide her into the position he wanted. At the first touch of his fingers in her pubic hair, she moaned.  
  
"That feels so good, sweet thing. You just make all the noise you want."  
  
Jenna's belly clinched. She didn't know if it was because of what he said or the warm breathy whisper against her cunt. She had no time to think about it. Riddick's fingers spread her outer lips and his tongue began to explore. Then it located her clit and began its work in earnest. Lips met lips and he was kissing and sucking her as well as licking. Jenna felt like she was going to die from the intense pleasure of it.  
  
It became harder and harder for her to maintain any control. She was doing nothing more than moaning and gasping around his erection when Riddick clasp her body tightly against his and rolled them onto their sides. Pulling away, he turned her until she was laying on her back in the middle of the bed, face to face with him. He spread her legs and lay down between them. Slipping his hands under her hips, he lifted her to his mouth once again.  
  
With nothing else to distract her, Jenna felt herself being dragged into a swirling whirlpool of sensation. Clinching her hands in the coverlet, she allowed it to happen. But as she sank, she flew higher and higher. The midnight behind her eyelids began to flash with stars and borealis. She was an Ichorous with melting wings seeking a black sun. Then she reached it, fell into its onyx depths as her body strained, arched and spasmed with her climax.  
  
Slowly, she returned to awareness and opened her eyes to find Riddick looming over her. She answered the question in his eyes with a sigh.  
  
"Yes."  
  
A gentle flex of powerful muscles and he was inside her. Totally immersed in an endorphin haze, she was barely aware of the pain as he forced her open and shredded her hymen. But then Riddick paused. His face was twisted with the effort of his control. It would have been a violent, vicious face but his eyes were soft with concern and ......... no, not that ..... She mustn't allow herself to think that. This was just sex. Nothing more. To think she would ever be anything else to him was madness.  
  
Jenna could think of only one way to drive these thoughts from her mind. Clutching Riddick's shoulders, she thrust her body hard against his; impaled herself to the full length of him. Now, there was pain. She couldn't stop herself from crying out. Then the pleasure came. Riddick made it come. He gathered her close.  
  
"Damn it, Jenna! Why did you do that, baby? Why?"  
  
Jenna couldn't speak for fear of what words might come pouring out of her. She raised her hands to Riddick's head. Stroking the bare skin; Lord, how sensual it felt; she urged his lips to hers. She poured all of the emotions ripping at her into that kiss to find Riddick answering them with his own. Then he pulled away and pressed his shoulder against her mouth.  
  
"Bite if it helps, baby."  
  
He began with the tiniest of strokes, barely moving within her, then slowly, oh so slowly, increased the length. There was still pain at first but not as much and less and less until, by the time he was making full strokes, it had all but disappeared. Jenna was awed at the way her body so quickly adjusted until it seemed that he belonged there inside of her; had always belonged there. It was amazing, wonderful ......... a dark heaven. The emotional pleasure-pain of it was almost unbearable. She bit down on Riddick's shoulder and tasted the rusted iron of blood.  
  
With an animal snarl, Riddick began to thrust in and out of her with full, hard strokes. Jenna attempted to flex her hips to match his but was soon beyond anything but clinging to him, moaning, as she spiraled up again toward that black sun.  
  
Just as she reached out to touch it, Riddick groaned loudly. His body arched backward, frozen in spasming paralysis. And Jenna felt him come. Oh, God, she felt it; felt the surging pulses of his flesh and the alien flood of his cum. Sweet rapture tore through her mind, sending her body into the shuddering throws of her own climax.  
  
This time the onyx pool didn't swallow her. She was floating on it with Richard B. Riddick in her arms. 


	25. Chapter 25 Beginning of What

Be advised: This chapter deals with Riddick's reaction to the events in the previous chapter as well as other things troubling him. The language, opinions and past history that is revealed are all definitely of a mature nature: underage sex, prostitution, and other subjects of a sexual nature are mentioned. There is some explicit sexual activity. However, the information it containers is important in understanding Riddick, at least my interpretation of Riddick. Those under 17 should not partake.  
  
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THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 25 - Beginning of What?  
  
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Riddick lay staring at the ceiling. Jenna lay curled against and partially across him. Her breath created alternating currents of warm and cool across his chest. He felt the same peaceful contentment that he had while holding her in hyper. Only now, without the mind altering energy field, his conscious mind wasn't letting him enjoy it undisturbed. In fact, with all the thoughts that were twisting through his mind like a pit full of snakes, he couldn't understand how he could be feeling it at all.  
  
Very quickly after their mutual satisfaction, he had rolled away from her, instinctively following his usual pattern; get up, clean up and get out. Though sometimes he didn't even bother with the clean up. With whores, it was just part of the service as long as they weren't already counting the money from their next customer. But free lays, if you were stupid enough to think that anything was free, usually tried to make something out of the situation that it wasn't if you stuck around that long. After the first few experiences with that, Riddick had rarely found any woman tempting enough to risk the possible complications.  
  
As he moved, she had murmured softly. Her hands had trailed across his chest to capture his neck and urge him subtly toward her. The soft, tender caress of her lips against his and her whispered "Thank you" cleared his mind of the last vestiges of satiated fog. It didn't matter what the old patterns told him to do. He was already totally over his head into those complications. It was time to figure out some new instincts.  
  
As he returned Jenna's kiss, she tried to deepen it. While he couldn't think of anything he would rather do, he was sure that more sex wasn't a good idea for her. She might be feeling all right now but her body didn't need any added trauma before it had some time to adjust. He pulled back.  
  
"Huh-uh. No more for now. We both need to clean up and get some rest while we have the chance."  
  
Jenna had looked embarrassed and released her hold on him abruptly. Riddick was wondering how he had put his foot in it until she spoke.  
  
"Oh! I've been so thoughtless. You let me sleep all the way back from New Mecca when you hadn't had any more sleep than I had the past few days and then I ...... I ......"  
  
Riddick really hoped that Jenna never lost her ability to blush. The pleasure it gave him had escaped in a low rumble of laughter.  
  
"You what? If I remember right, I walked in here under my own power. Now, get your sweet butt into the bathroom or would you rather go second?"  
  
"Yes, please, you go first. Uh ......... you're staying here then?"  
  
For a brief instant Riddick had wondered if he had misread what Jenna wanted. Then, he had understood that this was Jenna's insecurity, not his. Still, he had needed to be told that.  
  
"Only if you want me to. Do you?"  
  
No blush this time. A strange trepidation instead. Well, why not. Fucking the animal was one thing; feeling safe sleeping next to it was another.   
  
"Yes, but not if you feel like you have to. Only if that is really what you want to do."  
  
Ok. Now, not only had he felt about two inches lower than slime for that last thought but he had to decide exactly how he did feel about all this and then tell her the truth about it. He had voiced the first thought that came to him.  
  
"Right now, I do. Is that enough?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
That much settled between them, he had picked his shorts off of the floor and headed for the bathroom. He had made the first swipe with the washcloth only to see it stained with the pink of diluted blood. Once he was finished washing up, he had left the bathroom to have her pass him, carrying the bedspread with her to put it into the sonic cleaning closet. There had been no question in his mind that, had he inspected that piece of linen, the stain would have been a much brighter crimson.  
  
For the first time in his blood drenched life, he had found the thought of it disturbing.  
  
He had pushed the feeling aside, walked past the pile of his now folded clothing on the bureau and crawled into the neatly turned down bed. After a brief wait, Jenna slipping in beside him dressed in some kind of long sleeveless sleep-shirt had finished the completely surreal scene. He had cuddled her close, pretending drowsy pre-sleep until her breathing told him she was truly asleep.  
  
Now, he lay staring at the featureless ceiling trying to make some sense of it all.  
  
There had only been two women, well one woman and one girl, that he had ever wanted to lay with this way. With Lindi, the girl, it had been impossible. They had been nothing but two unloved souls trying to find what neither of them knew how to give with quick, frantic gropings in whatever hidden niche they could find to protect them from discovery. But, of course, they had been discovered and separated; each sent to more controlled, gender segregated facilities.  
  
The first night there, Riddick had beaten the shit out of an older boy to keep from getting raped. He had spent the next month in solitary; a primitive basement cell that gave him a taste of Slam long before he was ever sent there. His first night back in general population he escaped. Though he had run many times before, he always though of that as his first 'break out'.  
  
It wasn't his last. The next three years were filled with breakouts, recaptures and tougher and tougher facilities. What time he didn't spend in solitary for escape, he spent in solitary for fights. But his ass remained his own property. Finally, he learned enough to make an escape work. He had managed to stay on the streets for almost four years before the system got their hands on him again.  
  
It had been in those four years that he had known the other one, Beshue.  
  
As reluctant or unable as they had been to see to his survival, the two gamete donors that had produced him had supplied a very desirable genetic code for doing just that on the mean streets. He was taller and bigger than he should have been for his twelve years. He was also a great deal stronger, a natural strength that grew as he did without requiring hours of pumping iron to enhance and maintain it. Hidden behind that 'dumb muscle' facade was a highly intelligent, sharply cunning mind and a natural talent for reading the hidden motives, desires and weaknesses of others. Within a few weeks of that escape, he had become a runner for the top gang in the city, protected from the juvie authorities and with eyes on him watching for other talents.  
  
He was on a run when he heard the screams. A man had a woman, that Riddick assumed to be a street whore, pushed up against the wall of an alley and was pounding her with his fists. If it had been her pimp, no problem; but it wasn't. The slime was obviously an outsider, a 'john'. Riddick had taken a quick look around, finding no one else on the street. Where in the hell was the bitch's pimp? He had still believed that street took care of street and had done the only thing he could do. He had launched his whole body at the much larger man. The man had beaten him bloody before his hand had fatefully found that metal shard on the alley floor and the then thirteen year old Riddick made his first kill.  
  
As a result of that night, Riddick had taken a giant step up in the gang. While he still did runs, they were only the most important and valuable ones. The rest of his time was taken up by his new position of Enforcer-in-training and, to his total surprise, his new business.  
  
Beshue, it turned out, was not a street whore. She had been high class stock whose age, in her late twenties, had begun to catch up with her. Rather than waiting until her clientele and reputation started slipping away, she had opted for a new stage in her profession. Newly relocated to the area, she hadn't even been on the stroll when the john, not finding anything else out, had decided that she was going to take his business whether she wanted it or not.  
  
She had, in fact, been checking out the area for a good location to start her own house before approaching the local boss for permission and the proper protection agreement. Before his bruises, cuts and abrasions had even scabbed and greened, much less healed, Riddick had found himself a quarter owner in a whore house and receiving Beshue's personal attention in the two areas of life she considered important; business and sex.  
  
It was a gross over payment for the debt Beshue owed him but there was no altruism to it. Beshue had seen the same future value in him that the under-bosses had and was making a very canny investment in that future. He was going to end up, if not at the top, very near it. Cultivating him at this early stage could reap very valuable patronage from him later.  
  
The business had come first. Beshue hadn't wasted either her money or her off time during her past employment. What she didn't know about keeping and cooking a set of books, didn't exist. The same held true for investing the profits to make even more and totally clean money and keeping legally ahead of the tax men. It was also under her tutelage that Riddick's love of reading was solidified and satisfied to the greatest level in his life. To Beshue, knowledge was the only true power.  
  
Riddick's sex education had started as just that; knowledge that was necessary to run the business and knowledge that gave power over others. After months of reading, lectures and discussions on the historical, psychological, and the political aspects of human sexuality in all it's variations and prostitution in particular and a through technical grounding in human anatomy, Beshue had finally decided he was ready for practical experience.  
  
She gave him a choice of three of the women working their house to provide him with that. Whether it was a test or not, Riddick never knew for certain. However, Beshue made no argument with his opinion that, as an owner, it was bad business for him to fuck any of their own girls and he should continue this part of his education with her.  
  
Years later, Riddick had realized that she surely knew that his real reason was his lack of trust in anyone but her. She was already privy to his naivete and inexperience. To show that weakness to someone else, to give a second person that kind of power over him, just wasn't happening if he could help it. She had taught him the psychological aspects of sex very well and reaped the reward for that diligence. As did Riddick.  
  
Beshue was a whore but she was one who honestly enjoyed her profession. She taught the young Riddick the erotic possibilities of every part of the human body, male and female. But she taught him much more than that. She taught him the pleasures of being seduced and then the techniques and pleasures of being the seducer. And, in her own strange way, she taught him intimacy. The whore who had never had a pimp nor a lover, never allowed any man to linger in her bed, surrendered that privilege to the fourteen year old boy. For the two years after they first had sex until they were separated forever, Riddick rarely slept anywhere else. No matter the number of women he pleasured himself with, it was only Beshue's bed that he slept in; only Beshue that he held close in his arms for no other reason than comfort.   
  
Then, at sixteen and already a veteran Enforcer, Riddick had made a run; a special favor for the boss. It had gone wrong; as wrong as it could go. The judge, unaware of the full extent of Riddick's criminal career and confections, had given him the choice of prison for twenty years or the Forces for twenty years.  
  
Love, friendship; these were not in Beshue's admitted matrix of emotions. Respect and trust were the closest she would claim and those only for a very few. Yet, it was she who convinced Riddick to choose the forces, to try for better than the streets. She would have been right in that if the Forces General Staff had had half the integrity that she did. She had also gotten his signature on the papers returning his quarter interest in the house to her. But , then, business is business.  
  
The last memory Riddick had of Beshue was a wicked smile and a taunt and a warning. The taunt: She had told him that no matter how long he lived or how many women he had, she would be the one he would never forget because she had been his first. The warning: For women that emotional attachment was far greater than for men and, unless he wanted that kind of attachment, he should be considerate enough to steer clear of virgins.   
  
Beshue didn't deal in virgins. This was the first and only advice she ever gave him on the subject. He had followed that advice ......... until now.  
  
And ......... the truth was, he hadn't intended for it to happen this time. Now, he had to understand why it had before he could decide what to do about it.  
  
The first part of it was easy. He had mis-read Jenna. From her reaction to him that first night, he had know she was naive, inexperienced, un-awakened sexually until that moment but he had never believed that she was cherry. He had known one women, the wife of one of his superior officers, who had been married for years and had never gotten hot and bothered and climaxed until he did it for her. Shit! No woman Jenna's age, engaged for any length of time as she had been, would be cherry. While she was nervous around him at first, she was a lot less so that most women even whores. Hell, she was a lot less nervous around him than most men. Then, so quickly, she had been a great deal more eager than nervous.  
  
The engagement thing became a little shaky as soon as he had seen the total door mat that David was. But, there was always the possibility of some pity-fucking and the rest of it still blinded him. Yet, he should have understood her better after traveling that killing circle with her at the compound. He should have understood that when Jenna decided to do something, no matter what it was, she was a certain and sure as bedrock and all conflicting emotions were smothered; that comparing her reactions to any general norm was a big mistake.  
  
While all that was interesting and valuable information for future use, it didn't apply to the situation anymore. He had been certain that she was a virgin as he had stood beside this bed and it hadn't stopped him from crawling in beside her. That led to the second part of it; to him and what was happening to him.  
  
As he had stared at that stranger's face on the main screen of the bridge of the Butch Cassidy, Riddick had felt ................... He didn't want to admit what he had felt but, fuck!, now was the time for truth. He had felt an emotion that he hadn't since he was a child; a small child clutching a paper bag of his belongings, being walked toward a new foster facility, wondering who he would have to be this time to keep from being sent away again.   
  
Oh, it wasn't the same gut wrenching fear he had felt then. It was a creeping, twisting, unsettling anxiety. Added to it was an uncertainty that he hadn't felt even than. Not only did he wonder what part he had to play to be accepted by other people, he wondered what he had to be to be acceptable to himself.  
  
For the last four years he had been telling himself that he was working to become an arrow-straight Joe-citizen because it was something that he owed, owed Carolyn. But, nothing had really changed. He had been more choosy about the contracts he took and changed his appearance but nothing else. Imam had been right about that. Down inside he was still Richard B. Riddick; murderer, escaped convict, unfeeling bastard.  
  
Then he had taken this damn contract and stepped straight off of the streets into a righteous life. As soon as he had a new name ............ He suddenly wondered what Jenna would come up with. She had done a good job with the eyes. They felt right to him even now that he had his old face back. Anyhow, ....... with the new name, he would have the papers to prove that he was a legally licensed Keller and hyper pilot. He had an honest job ..... well, he could claim and the papers would back him up that it was honest; just a hired hand that didn't know nothing about nothing.  
  
But he had gotten more than that. Mr. Sen regarded him as a 'propitious addition' to the group. Jeeter, who had always tried to become part of the wallpaper when he was around before, had regressed to some previous military experience and was relating to him as if he was a liked and respected superior officer; one that could be pushed a little if it was something as important as Jenna involved. Ben ........... shit, Jack II. Hell, even that semi-psycho Syrus, who probably would still dare him to kill him every once in a while, had accepted him as Jenna's choice enough to give them that little 'Garden of Eden' set up. Yeah, Syrus was a semi-psycho freaking romantic. And Jenna .................... Hell! what hadn't she given him.  
  
He had taken it all. Taken it all without thinking about it. He had liked it, wanted it. Maybe he had regressed just like Jeeter; back to the gang, back to the Forces before it all blew up in his face. This being righteous was easy. Then they went to New Mecca.  
  
Oh, Jack had been the same with him as she always had. He was her big brother, fellow street runner who understood what the others never would. But, after she had finished hugging him and crying all over him, there had been shock the first time she really looked at him. Then, there had been swift, sneaky glances as if she were wondering if he was really still who she thought he was. Imam ......... Imam hadn't even recognized him. Then, he had called him 'my boy' and said he was proud of him as Riddick carried him to the skimmer.  
  
That started it and the face on the main screen had brought it to a head. Riddick had suddenly felt like a fraud. All these people with all their positive expectations and deep down inside he was still who he had always been. It was all a con game. Even if he played it until the day he died, when whatever was after that happened, something was going to look him in the face and tell him exactly that.  
  
More important, when it came down to nothing but survival, everyone who trusted and counted on him was going to pay the price for it. At that point, Riddick survives and anyone else loses. He wasn't the one who saved Jack and Imam, Carolyn was. Imam knew that. His trying to wise Jack up, about who Riddick really was, was probably the reason she distrusted him. But, now, Imam had joined the suckers. He was proud of Riddick. Well, just how proud would Imam have been if he had known that the first though in 'his boy's' mind was to work on Sulleman with a shiv until he was nothing but a quivering, bloody lump of screaming agony.  
  
Riddick had gotten Imam quickly settled in the infirmary and, after Jenna had informed them they could take down time, had volunteered to take the clothing from the bridge to the apartment level by himself while Jeeter made the last transfer of Nagia's plants. It was a way for both of them to be off duty sooner but Riddick had another motive. He wanted to get away from other people, even Jeeter, as soon as possible. He wanted to lock himself away in his quarters and deal with the implications of his recent revelation.  
  
Walking down the corridor of the apartment level, Riddick, his habit of mapping his environment in full force, had noted the occupants of the quarters. On his left were unassigned apartments; on his right, first David's and Sasha's double and then Jeff's. He had passed four more unassigned on both the left and right sides before finding Ben's on the right and Mr. Sen's on the left. After that was Jack's on the right and Imam's on the left. Finally he reached Jeeter's on the right with Mira's opposite it, and dropped off the cart of Jeeter's clothing. Pushing the remaining cart on down the hall, he had come to his own quarters on the right with Syrus' opposite. There was a palm plate and a voice identifier. His palm didn't activated the door so he had tried the identifier using the title on the door display.  
  
"First Officer Barrol. Open."  
  
This had worked. The door slid open and he was requested by a computerized voice to return his palm to the plate for future identification purposes. After satisfying the computer and placing his bag and uniforms in his quarters, he had pushed the cart to the last two apartments in the hall. Jenna's was next to his and Nagia's opposite. He left the cart beside Jenna's door and returned to his quarters.  
  
The place looked like a suite in a four-star luxury hotel; well, like the pictures he had seen of them. There was a large living room with very comfortable looking furniture and a state of the art entertainment center, separate den/office/library and a galley with a spacious dinning area. The bed room was large, as was the bed, and had a small sitting area furnished with two overstuffed chairs and a shared side table. There was enough closet space for a family of four. He unpacked. His uniforms and meager personal possessions looked lost in them.  
  
But the bath was where the real luxury was: a huge, deep tub, both sonic and water showers, a sonic laundry and a separate cubicle for the john and bidet. As he placed his few personals in the niches of the vanity sink, they also looked lost in the over abundant space.  
  
Though he hadn't thought about it then, his reverie was momentarily interrupted by the thought that Beshue would have approved of the bathrooms in these apartments. She had run a posh house and had always insisted on the amenities. But, this thought was only a brief reprieve.  
  
He had stripped and placed the soiled uniform in the sonic cabinet. As he turned toward the showers, he was confronted by the 'stranger' again in the vanity mirror. He was beginning to really hate that face. He had grabbed his body soap and charged into the water shower. He was already dripping wet when he had realized that he had forgotten the shampoo. It was like the preverbal straw. His temper had flared. He had stomped back to the vanity, grabbed the built-in sonic depilatory and went to work with it.  
  
Shit, it had been good to run his hands over his scalp and have it feel right. Just as good to look into the mirror and see himself again. He wanted to see how those positive reactions changed now that Richard B. Riddick was back. Even the new eyes worked. The eyes that Jenna had chosen ..............  
  
That had brought him to the part of the fraud that bothered him the most. His first thought in the bar, after the pure lust, was that she was out of his league, a whore too fine for him to afford. Now, she wasn't a whore but she was still too fine for him, even more 'too fine' for him. But she didn't know that because she really didn't know him.  
  
He had had a sudden image of the teenage psychiatrist/psychologist sitting in her ivory tower, studying the files of the badest of the bad, finding the shoddy work of the yoyos so infuriating that it blinded her to the rest of it; blinded her to the horror, the filth and the blood in those files. And she didn't look at the faces, didn't want to be influenced by anything but the data. Well, those faces were data. They were shaped, etched deep, with the realities of those files; the eyes full of the twisted, cold souls behind them.  
  
Well, now she was going to see one of those faces. They had down time and she would expect him to come to her. That was exactly what he would do. Richard B. Riddick would come to her and she would see the truth, recoil from it, and that much of his problem would be over.  
  
But, again, he had mis-read Jenna. She hadn't recoiled. She had understood. She had known exactly what he was trying to do and why he was doing it. "You were never anything but human to me." After that, an angel with a flaming sword standing in his way wouldn't have stopped him from crawling into her bed. Only Jenna could have done that and she didn't.  
  
She had been so nervous, so unsure; unsure of herself, not of him nor of wanting him. That trust had put a hard pain deep inside him and he had known that the only way to ease it was to make this the best he could for her. So he pulled out the memories, every thing that Beshue had taught him. It hadn't mattered to him then if he got his or not. It was going to be all for Jenna.  
  
She had been so hot-sweet, like good liquor on his tongue, in his belly, running through his veins. Knowing what he was doing to her, feeling it in the movements of her body, hearing it in her soft gasps and moans was the best he had ever had it. But, knowing he was the first to ever do that to her was even better. Beshue had warned him about what taking a virgin could do to the woman but she sure as hell hadn't warned him about what it could do to him.  
  
Jenna's whispered "please Riddick ..... want me" had almost driven him over the edge of control. Almost, but not. He had maintained. He had given her a piece of what she wanted but not all of it. The beast was out of the cage but on a very short leash. Then, Jenna had changed the game. She had wanted, need, to touch him, to arouse him as much as to be touched and aroused by him. Again, he had given her what she wanted.  
  
As she had maneuvered him to lay on his back and knelt beside him, the determined do-or-die expression on her face had amused him. Then it had turned into something else as she began to trace the pattern of his muscles; something that disturbed him until he identified it. It was the same open eyed awe that he had seen in her eyes at her first clear look at his shine. It was her "Beautiful" expression. Under the circumstances it had been a little embarrassing. Women had looked at him with lust, revulsion, fear and a lot of other emotions but never awe. He had closed his eyes against it and forced himself to relax and let her do whatever she wanted.  
  
Her touches had been tentative at first and then became bolder. Then they became damn knowledgeable. But the slight pauses between a first touch and the continuation of it had told him that she was using his reactions to make sure she was doing it right. He had surrendered to it, had surrendered control to a woman for the first time since Beshue, and let his body tell Jenna whatever it wanted to tell her. When she had set her mouth to work on his nipples it was like lightning shooting through him and he had clinched his fists to keep from reaching for her. It had gotten harder and harder to remain passive.  
  
When he had felt her fingers on the waistband of his shorts he had arched to let her remove them. He had expected her to immediately go for his cock but she hadn't. The touches had started at his feet; slow, deep touches that lulled him back to a relaxed state. But, it hadn't stayed that way. She had slowly, so freaking slowly, moved up his legs. The touches themselves had aroused him but the anticipation had been even worse. His whole body had been taut and vibrating and his cock aching before she had reached it.  
  
The first touch of her tongue had sent him arching off the mattress. He had fastened his hand on her thigh. He had known that his grip was too hard, was painful, but he had needed that grounding to keep his control. Even at that, as she had continued licking him, he hadn't been able to keep from flexing his hips, pressing himself against her lips to urge her to do more, urge her to suck him.  
  
Then, she had; first pulling him deep into her mouth and then trying to do everything to him at the same time. Experienced; no. Enthusiastic; oh, fuck yes. She had begun making small pleasure sounds that had eventually merged into a rolling purr that transferred directly to his cock. No one had ever done that to him before. It was the most exciting, and arousing blowjob he had ever had and his control was soon reaching its limit again. Desperate for something to take his attention away from what Jenna was doing to him, he had maneuvered her over him and begun pleasuring her in return.  
  
Riddick hadn't tasted a woman that way for a long time. He had liked doing it before but paid whores faking their pleasure had turned him off of it. Jenna's surprised squeaks and appreciative gasps had made it feel new and even sweeter than he remembered. The smell and taste of her, the feel of her soft outer and inner lips and the stiff nub of her clit against his lips, tongue and teeth; it all had seemed perfect to him, as if her cunt had been made just for his mouth to enjoy.  
  
It had not taken long to arouse her to the point that she couldn't do anything but pant over his cock. In control again, he had reversed their positions. Without the distraction of her mouth on him, he had buried himself in the experience of plundering her and the ecstasy of her reactions to it. When she had climaxed, it had taken every shred of his control not raise up, plunge into her and finish himself as well. Instead, he had continued licking and sucking her, extending her climax to its limit; not only to give her the maximum pleasure but leaving her, he hoped, somewhat numbed to the sensation of the pain that would come next.  
  
As she returned from it, he had positioned himself and then waited; giving her one last chance to come to her senses and stop him. "Yes". Somewhere deep in his own mind, someone screamed 'no,don't do this to her' as he flexed and entered her. That same someone had looked out of his eyes searching for the evil he had done her. It had also pulled her close and asked "Why?" when she had refused the concern and impaled herself on him. It was also the reason being buried to the hilt in her tight heat hadn't caused him to come immediately.  
  
Then Jenna had stoked his head and pulled him into a kiss. That kiss seemed to offer up her soul to him and the totally novel feel of her soft, supple fingers on his newly shorn scalp made him want to devour it whole. He had had to drag his mouth from hers to keep enough conscious thought to finish this for her the gentle way it should be finished. But, again, Jenna changed his plan.  
  
He had given her his shoulder to help ease her pain. Instead, she had taken the pain as if it were as much of a gift as the pleasure had been. Then, when the sweet heat of her had molded to him, massaging and sucking him almost beyond endurance, she had drawn his blood in pure passion. She had called out the beast and this time there was no leashing it. When he came it was like dying, the soft body under him promising heaven instead of the hell he deserved.  
  
But, now, he was facing the reality of it. What did he do now? What did he want to do now? Damned if he knew! ............ Except for one thing. He knew he didn't want to be a fraud any more! He knew didn't want to play Jenna; letting her think he was whatever she wanted him to be and then disappearing as soon as he got the id and money for the contract. But how was he going to make sure that he didn't let her think he was promising things that he wasn't? He had already found out how bad he was at understanding her.  
  
He finally decided that there was only one way to handle it. For once in his life, he was going to have to open up and let someone else inside his head. Instead of keeping himself hidden until he found out where the other person was at and how to use it, he was going to have to take the chance of being used himself. He and Jenna were going to have to talk. With this thought on his mind he finally fell asleep.  
  
He woke up with that same thought in his mind; woke up to the smell of coffee and the sight of sunshine-sea eyes. Jenna was already dressed for duty and handed him a steaming cup.  
  
"Jeeter just took the bridge watch. You and I will cover the next one together so we can make out the schedules for ship's duty and weapons training. I'm going to a meeting with Mr. Sen now. You can come along or rest more and view the log of it later."  
  
Riddick knew that if he didn't act on his decision now the business of the ship and the group would bury it. It would bury it because he would loose his nerve and let it.  
  
"I'll go with you. But, first, I want to know something. What do you expect this ... this thing that we just started between us to be?"  
  
There! It was done. No going back. He didn't know what reaction he had thought he would get from her but the wide smile she gave him was not one that he ever would have.  
  
"I expect it to be exactly what you want it to be. No more. No less. Now, drink your coffee and then get dressed. I told Mr. Sen I'd be there in twenty minutes."  
  
Riddick watched, in stunned silence, as Jenna walked out of the bedroom.  
  
What the fuck had she meant by that? 


	26. Chapter 26 Testing, Testing

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
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Chapter 26 - Testing, Testing  
  
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Jeeter didn't feel comfortable sitting in the captain's slot. He woulda used his own weapons/security slot to watch and record the meeting with Sen but both Jack and Ben were still on the bridge. Lady'd made it real clear that she didn't want anyone to know what he was doing.  
  
Had to give her credit. She was too trusting for her own good but she wasn't blind about it. Still, it was a puzzle that she trusted him and Barrol over 'em that raised her. What'd Ben said? Like since she was seven or eight for Sen, Syrus and David. The jerk, Jeff, had shown up later. When Jeeter had asked why there weren't any women in the group, Ben had got all bent and snapped off that women didn't go genius like men did. Jeeter couldn't buy that one. After a little thought, he decided the truth probably was that women, genius or not, were a hell ah a lot better at surviving on their own. Most ah the ones that he'd known were.  
  
But, weird collection that it was, they were Lady's family and she was trusting him and Barrol and having the security system watch and record the others every move; even Ben. The only way he could figure it was that they really weren't blood to her in the first place and that Lady was smart enough to know that contracts were more binding than blood anyway. That was why family most always worked for the same boss or gang. You didn't, you might wind up having to kill each other.  
  
Then there was that tarantula thing. Him or Barrol coulda put the tracker box in the bay but that fancy techno-shit had to be someone in the group doing a deal with the wrong people. But who? In the short time he had had to study 'em, there were only two that he would trust; well, trust to be for Lady whatever came down; Ben and, here was the real shocker to admit, Syrus.  
  
The guy was as scary as Barrol in his own way. Truth, he was scarier. With Barrol you had something to work with. He had rules. Street rules, slam rules; sure, but rules. With Syrus you just didn't know. Well, that wasn't completely right. Jeeter had managed to find two things he could be sure ah. Syrus loved Lady the way Barrol loved Jack and Syrus didn't fool around when it came to the doctor stuff.  
  
The first Jeeter'd seen in the bay of the BC. The look'a pride on Syrus' face at the way she handled Nagia told that story. The second Jetter'd found out just a little later in the infirmary.  
  
Syrus'd had the holyman settled, the poison Nagia'd used identified and an antidote pumping into the old man before they had finished transferring the plants from the BC. Then, when he'd given Nagia a padd and stylus to record all her plants and what they did, he'd been real patient explaining that all she had to do was write in New Meccan and the computer would translate for her. Patient about telling her how the hydro-garden worked, too. 'Course, when he caught sighta Jeeter still hanging around, he'd got snarky again.  
  
"I can't imaging that the ship's Security Officer has any further business in my infirmary. I would hate to think that you are contemplating renewing the aggressive stance of our first meeting."  
  
The sneery smile and the gleam in his eyes didn't say that he would hate it. Lady'd been right about watching him on that. Then maybe he thought Jeeter was there to hassle Nagia. Jeeter wouldn'ta liked someone doing that either.  
  
"Nah, you're not the slime G was. I just wanta see about getting my eyes fixed. Lady promised me the same job her and First got. I'm gonna be down for sleep time anyway and wondered if you could fit me in."  
  
"My God, I am running a walk-in clinic."  
  
But, Syrus'd already been reaching for the color chart book. He hadn't treated Jeeter like an idiot when he explained the process and, shock, he'd called it a "wise decision" when Jeeter opted to keep the dark brown eye color he'd been born with and keep the night shine to a minimum. He'd meant it, too; no sneer. It'd been the same when Syrus roused him outa the chamber, checked the healing and did the tests on his vision. But that had ended it.  
  
"Perfect. Now, get out and stop cluttering up my infirmary."  
  
Jeeter decided that Syrus had a rule about that snarkiness, too. It wasn't fun if you weren't strong enough to be fair game. That's why the patience with Nagia, someone he barely knew, and the games he played with Lady, maybe the only person he really gave a shit about.  
  
This observation brought Jeeter back to the present and more thoughts about the attempts to sell the group out. The only way he could see it was that there was two; one real smart and one pretty stupid. The tarantula had been smart but the box was stupid. In fact, the box had been a piece ah luck insteada the trouble it was meant to be. Without it, they probably wouldn'ta went red zone and Ben wouldn'ta found the other ...... or maybe not found it so quick. That kid is a genius. Well, yeah, he is. But what did that make Jack? The way she was sucking up everything he could throw at her and begging for more.  
  
Jeeter watched the two, their heads ear to ear and their eyes shining with excitement. Hell, he liked hacking but it didn't turn him on that much. Those two looked good together, too good. They were a pair, all right; a pair that 'big brother' Barrol would approve ah. But, Sweet Mother, the girl was so .............. everything; young, beautiful, smart, ..... tall, blond, willowy ... beautiful ....... What would she want with a sawed off, ugly, gutter rat like him with somebody like Ben around, somebody so much like her? Him moving on Jack wouldn't be like Barrol getting Lady, either. They were another ah those matched pairs; even if Barrol didn't know it yet.  
  
And Barrol did have Lady. No doubt ah that. Jeeter hadn't meant to spy; only been wanting to locate Lady, deliver Sen's message and see what orders she had for him. Then there it was, right up on the main screen; her and Barrol's blips together in the bedroom ah her quarters. Ben'd clouded up heavy until he saw Jack's big smile. Damn, she smiled so pretty. Then the two ah 'em had a conversation so heavy into hacker lingo that Jeeter had trouble following it, especially because he was using it as a chance to contact Lady without 'em listening in.  
  
Their conversation ended about the same time as his with Lady. So he still didn't get a clue as to what Jack had said but, whatever it was, it'd made the kid lighten up. He wasn't happy about it the way Jack was but he wasn't scowling. More looking thoughtful like he had after Barrol had talked to him when Lady fainted. Now, that was interesting.  
  
Yeah, but that wasn't the same as him wanting Jack. No chance there. He'd learned to live with not having what he wanted a long time ago. He'd just have to do it again. He buried himself in the console, setting up all the camera angles in the library and making sure everything was on record mode to the protected file Lady wanted. Still, it was a relief when Jack and Ben decided to call it a day and left the bridge. It was a lot easier to stop wanting if you weren't having your face rubbed in it.  
  
Sen and that merc, Red Rafferty, entered the library and Jeeter used 'em to make final adjustments to the cameras. Lady wanted constant film on each ah 'em; something about studying their faces and body language later. Then a soft voice brought him up straight, his head whipping around. Jack was standing behind the command slot.  
  
"You're recording that for Captain Jen, aren't you. She doesn't trust her own people any more. Ben thinks the tarantula had to be an inside job. I guess she does, too. Oh, look. Ri..... Barrol is coming in with her. Damn! He's shaved. Scoot over. I want to watch this, too."  
  
The comment about Barrol snapped Jeeter's attention back to the screen. Shaved? He'd scalped himself! If he'd looked scary before, shit, Holy Mother protect us now. Jeeter was so focused on the change in Barrol that he barely felt Jack move into the slot beside him. He was startled when he turned to find himself almost nose to nose with her. OH. This wasn't good. This really wasn't good. He scrambled for a way to get outa it.  
  
"Ah ..... ah ... You ..... you really shouldn't be here. Lady .... she don't want anyone to know she's doing this."  
  
Jack gave him a sweet, half pouty smile. He felt his insides turn to jelly.  
  
"But, Jeeter, I was under siege by that merc and his men for days and days. They were going to kidnap me. Surely, I deserve to know what they're up to? I promise I won't tell on you if you let me watch. Not even Ben."  
  
Ok. He couldn't argue with that. But he was pretty sure that it was the smile not the words that was getting to him. He tried again to put some distance between him and Jack.  
  
"Well, let me put it on the com slot screen for you. The meeting might go for a while and you can get comfortable over there."  
  
"That's not necessary. This chair must have been built for a giant. I'm just fine here. ... Unless you're not comfortable?"  
  
Oh, Sweet Jesus, give me strength. But no help arrived and there was no way he could force himself to drive her away by hurting her feelings. She just wanted to be friends. Him wanting something else was his problem.  
  
"No. I'm ok. ......Ah .... "  
  
"Oh, they're starting. Turn the volume up a little."  
  
Jeeter tried to concentrate on the meeting; tried to ignore the warm sweetness sitting so close to him. It didn't take long for that to become easier that he thought for. Oh, the first ah it was just a rehash of stuff he had already figured out; the merc working for some big law firm that was hot to burn the Company legally.  
  
Then it got a little more interesting. Ben had done a real coredump to Jeeter on that 'Institute' of theirs and the shit the Company was doing to 'em. Now, Sen had gotten with the lawyers and they were gonna take on the Company on that too. The thing was, they wanted statements from Jack and Imam about the crash ah some ship called the Hunter-Gratzner as part of the deal.  
  
Barrol went a little stiff on that one. Not so a stranger would notice but enough for Jeeter to see it. He was pretty sure that Lady knew he had, too, but she agreed to the statements like she didn't have any worry about it. Still, she made some terms ah her own. The questions would be in writing. Jack and Imam would answer the same way. No one could interview 'em in person. They wouldn't be showing up for any court but, if what they knew was important, they'd have their identities certified so it could be used. Rafferty could make sure that they were saying what they wanted to, not being forced.  
  
He checked Jack out. She was looking interested but not real worried about it, either. He guessed that both Lady and Jack were sure they could cover what was bothering Barrol. Jeeter decided a little look-see at the reports on that crash wouldn't be a bad idea.   
  
Then it got real interesting.  
  
Sen had hired Rafferty and his men to do security for the group when they got settled. He was telling Lady he wanted her to pick up the rest ah 'em and to put 'em on as crew on the Hole.  
  
"No."  
  
She just said the one word and sat back. If Sen wanted an explanation or to argue about it, he was gonna have to make the first move; stick his neck out and show his cards first. Sen had a face harder to read than Barrol's but Jeeter would bet his poke that he wasn't real happy right now. The longer it took Sen to react, the more Jeeter was sure he was right about that. The man was his same quiet, benign self when he finally spoke but something in his eyes reminded Jeeter too much of G.  
  
"I assure you, Jenna, I conferred with the rest of the group about this. I saw no reason to disturb your rest once a majority had been reached."  
  
Majority? That only had to be three 'sides Sen. Jeeter had no trouble guessing who Sen'd gone to first to make sure he had it. The way the group lined out, Sen sure had the controlling vote. Disturb her rest, my ass. He just didn't want her maybe changing one of their minds. Shit!  
  
Maybe him backing Lady that first meeting had just been 'cause she had more muscle on her side. But if Sen was thinking that now he and Rafferty could take Barrol and him, Jeeter guessed he'd better think again. 'Course Sen didn't know that it'd be three to two; didn't know what Lady'd learned to do on New Mecca. Rafferty might suspect that Lady had a hand in it but couldn't know for sure. Nobody had done any talking in front ah him.  
  
"You misunderstand me, Mr. Sen. If the group wishes to hire Mr. Rafferty and his men rather than learning how to defend themselves, it is of no consequence to me. However, as captain of this ship, the safety of the ship is my first duty. I will not be dictated to as to whom I will or will not employ as crew. Nor, will I be dictated to as to whom I will or will not transport nor under what circumstances I will transport them. I had thought that I had made that quite clear."  
  
Way to do it, Lady. Jeeter fingered the knife hilt at his side. On a secondary screen, he did a quick check of the locations of the terrible trio. They were all at their duty stations, a safe distance from the library. He relaxed again.  
  
"Jenna, you are the only one of the group qualified to serve as captain and for many reasons a great deal more important than your ability to pilot. I would not have supported your claim to it otherwise. However, as preferable as it might be for the group to be able to defend ourselves, you must be realistic. While you, I and, quite probably, Syrus have the ability for that, the others have neither the mindset nor the stability to be depended upon in such a capacity. A trained security force is needed for the defense of the colony should that become necessary. As the elected leader of that colony, I must insist that you provide them transport.  
  
"As for Mr. Rafferty and his men becoming a part of your crew, I intended that only as a recommendation. It was my thought that you would welcome the opportunity to fill your roister with experienced personnel. You can not continue indefinitely with only four individuals manning the bridge. Would you care to enlighten me as to why this is not acceptable to you?"  
  
Recommendation, hell, it'd sounded like an order to Jeeter. He threw Jack a raised eyebrow and got a wicked smile and a snake like motion of her hand in return.  
  
"He's a real bessa closer."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
Jack smiled mischieviously.  
  
"A top notch stinger ......... He could make a very good living as a con artist. A real mark wouldn't stand a chance."  
  
Now, where'd a nice kid like her picked up that kind of street knowing? He didn't have time to think further about that as Lady began talking again.  
  
"I will be happy to do that ..... once you have told me why, with a ship of their own, Mr. Rafferty's men need transport on my ship?"  
  
Both Jeeter and Jack started when Rafferty laughed.  
  
"Captain, you're as good as Mr. Sen claimed you were. I wouldn't allow a force of unknown mercs aboard my ship, either. I apologize for this farce but I found it very hard to believe that someone institution raised could be all that he said you were. Then there was also the fact that you were too influenced by emotion when you allowed the transmission from the skimmer. I wanted some proof that you were better than that. I won't risk my people unless I can be sure mistakes like that aren't going to happen again. My man had your location pinpointed by your second sentence."  
  
Now, Lady laughed.  
  
"Not hardly, Mr. Rafferty. The skimmer's com system has cycling reflection with power modulation. The track he received came from every direction possible with no variation in strength. Even a Hauser Mark Z-XII couldn't detect a location."  
  
Rafferty looked puzzled. Served him right to have the tables turned. Some cajones, him thinking he had the right to test Lady. Maybe Jeeter'd just see how the merc liked a little testing going the other direction.  
  
"Z ... XII? The highest Hauser makes is a IX and there is no Z series."  
  
"The Z series is produced only for the Forces; Eyes Only technology. If our association proves stable, I'll have Ben whip you up as many as you need. You will also be provided with compatible coding programming to communicate with the colony and my ship. Now, answer me why your men require transport on my ship? Or was that simply part of your .. test?"  
  
Oh, that pause. Lady wasn't taking that test shit as easy as Jeeter had thought she was. Rafferty'd better watch his back on this one. Jeeter was really gonna enjoy it if Lady decided to rip some skin off ah the merc.  
  
"No, Captain. The men I am supplying the colony will require transport. They aren't the same type as the ones that were with me on New Mecca. Mr. Sen has discussed your group's plan to begin a colony and recruit settlers, artisans and such. The men I am supplying are on average older that the young bucks I use on trouble jobs and all have families, wives and children, that will relocate with them."  
  
"And why would they be willing to do that? To leave all but what they can carry and move to a colony world?"  
  
Jeeter thought he knew the answer to that one. He was real interested in seeing if Rafferty would talk square to Lady.  
  
"Because, Captain, it isn't easy for our kind if we try an settle down. We just don't seem to fit in with civilians very well. We have to lie about what we've been, make up cover stories. They don't like the idea that good old John who lives next door knows a thousand and one ways to kill them before they have time to blink.  
  
"A lot of them would have already colonized but they can't afford the fees for anything but a first-in world; not some place you would take a family if you had any other choice. Your colony would be different; all the perks of an established settlement with none of the drawbacks. There would be housing, an excellent medical facility and education for their children and, with no entry debt to pay off and fairly priced import and export, they could be certain they weren't going to be nothing but indentured slaves for several generations.  
  
"Don't worry, I'll have no trouble finding takers from the best of them to fill every slot you've got open. They'll also have other occupations besides killing. Two I have in mind are herdsmen. One raises Lartian cattle and the other, horses. They will want to add their own lines to your genetic banks."  
  
Damn, Lady sure sat up on that one.  
  
"Horses? ... as in Equus, Earth horses?"  
  
At Rafferty's nod, she continued, snapping it out like orders.  
  
"Tell him to research the proper meds for hyper and I'll turn every inch of the common areas into stables for him. To be fair, I'll do the same for the cattleman. If you can find a pig, or reasonable facsimile, farmer, he gets the same privilege. In fact, the same for any raising food animals. Any farmers or gardeners are required to bring their seed collections. I will also transport any specialized equipment for any occupation. If such is too large for easy handling, have them pod it. The same for their household furnishing and personal property. If they pod it, I'll transport it."  
  
Then Lady slowed down and her voice got all sweet like.  
  
"You see, Mr. Rafferty, I can be very accommodating ........ if you give me a reason to be."  
  
Jeeter couldn't stifle his chuckling. The merc looked like he'd had a run in with a stunner. Then, Lady got her revenge.  
  
"But, since we are in a 'testing' mood. I have one for you. There was a child left behind on New Mecca. I want you to arrange for the rescue of that child before we discuss this any further. When you have decided whether or not to take my challenge, com the bridge. Good day, gentlemen."  
  
Lady stood and she and Barrol were outa the library at a fast walk. They weren't rushing but they were gonna to be at the elevator before Jack could get there from the bridge. Jeeter was still thinking when Jack acted. Jumping up, she headed for the bay hatch.  
  
"I'll hide out until they've passed and then act like I'm just coming in from the core."  
  
Jeeter was about to give her security clearance on the bay hatches when his conscience hit him up the side ah the head. It wasn't a big shot, his conscience was pretty puny from lack ah exercise, but he felt it.  
  
"No! Lady's got too many people playing games with her. You go sit in the nav slot and don't worry. It'll be my neck not yours 'cause I'm the one broke orders."  
  
Jack gave him a strange questioning look.  
  
"You sure about this?"  
  
"Yeah, Lady's been straight with me, I gotta play the same with her. You just stay mum and I'll take the heat. Like I said, she ain't gonna blame you anyhow. But you better sit in your nav slot and say you watched from there. Barrol I ain't as ready to be so honest with."  
  
Jack's laughter was like silver bells but her eyes were something wicked. Damn! what he had admitted to with that last one!  
  
"I'm eighteen, Jeeter. Who I choose to .... to be close to .. is my own business. Big Bro is just going to have to get used to that. But, I'll play it your way ..... for now."  
  
As she moved to the nav slot, her hips moved in a gentle, easy sway that he couldn't take his eyes off of. Her words kept ricocheting inside his head. She couldn'ta meant what it sounded like. She really couldn'ta. But the look in those eyes had said that she did.  
  
No! She was just a kid. Raised by a holy man, for Christ sake! She had no idea what she was messing with; no idea of how black a man's soul could get living like him and Barrol had had to live. Barrol for a big bro was one thing, a man like him for 'her man' was something else. Even if she meant it, he couldn't let nothing come of it. The Blessed Mother might forgive a lota things but not something as low as that.  
  
They had time to get settled and put on their faces before Lady and Barrol arrived on the bridge. For Barrol it worked but Lady wasn't buying it. He could see it in the slight narrowing of her eyes that she knew they'd been up to something. He confessed before she had to ask.  
  
"I let her watch, Captain. She woulda left if I'd told her to."  
  
"And why didn't you, Second Officer?"  
  
Lady's face wasn't telling him a thing. He couldn't decide if he should try some excuse or not. Then, Jack was standing up. Shit! Why didn't she just lay low like he told her?  
  
"He's lying .... to protect me. He told me to leave and I wouldn't. What could he do? Throw me out physically? I can just imagine Bro's reaction to that."  
  
Jeeter snuck a look at Barrol. Hell! He had that twisted smile like he thought it was funny, like maybe Jack had pulled the same shit on him.  
  
"This isn't the streets, Jack. He's Second on this ship. Next time you forget that, he has my 'ok' to do what ever you force him to do to carry out his orders! Clear?"  
  
Barrol was serious but Jeeter was damn sure that he didn't want to put that 'ok' to a test.  
  
"Yes, Bro." Then she turned to him. "I apologize, Second. I had no right to put you in that position."  
  
Her voice sounded like she meant it but, as she turned to sit back down and Barrol couldn't see her face, she winked at Jeeter. He didn't know what to think about that. She had covered his back. Why'd she done that? And what was that crack ah Barrol's about this not being the streets? Jeeter decided he better do some finding out and a lota thinking before he did something that might be real stupid.  
  
Then, he looked at Lady. She had the same wicked look in her eyes that Jack had had earlier but there was some kind of warning there, too.  
  
Oh, yeah. He really needed to do that thinking. He had a lot more to worry about than Barrol breaking him in half.   
  
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	27. Chapter 27 Candle in the Window

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
Chapter 27 - Candle in the Window  
  
Jenna sat in the command slot on the bridge of the Hole, going quietly out of her mind. The last four weeks had been nothing but a pressure chamber of conspiracies and tense interpersonal relationships. The last three days had been a personal hell.  
  
First had been the construction of an alternate reality that would allow Imam and Jack to give their depositions to MMM&P while preserving the lie that Riddick was dead. This was complicated by the fact that the independent trader that had picked up the skiff and given them transport to New Mecca, no questions asked, also had to be protected. He had been well paid for both his service and his silence by Emir Kaseem but silence didn't last long in the interrogation rooms of either the Forces or the Company.  
  
Jenna's first thought had been to 'create' an independent trader to replace the real one. This had earned her an amused look from Riddick and an open snicker from Jack. They had then informed her that, on any given day, New Mecca was probably hosting at least half a dozen 'legal traders' that were actually illegal smugglers berthed under false identities. It had been time consuming, but not particularly difficult, for Ben to locate a ship that had been at New Mecca at the same time as the trio's arrival that had 'disappeared' shortly thereafter.  
  
The next phase had been to decide on a believable scenario for Jack and Imam having been able to use the skiff to escape the planet after both Carolyn and Riddick failed to survive. Luckily, that model skiff had been designed for emergency survival. It's operation had been kept as simple as possible and it had an auto pilot. Once prepared for flight, it wasn't much harder to get off planet and speeding through space than getting a common skimmer into the air. Since the really tricky part that required a great deal of expertise, a planet landing, wasn't involved, it was believable that a curious child could pick up enough information to manage it. Jack's excellent grades in her classes at the New Mecca University would give credence to this.  
  
Then came the hard part; the statements themselves. MMM&P hadn't adhered strictly to the rigid question and answer format that Jenna had specified. The initial questions were specific inquiries: the testifier's identity; reasons for taking passage on the Hunter-Gratzner; intentions of filing claims for loss (none); the cause of the crash of the Hunter-Gratzner (the answers to which were supplied by Riddick and attributed to statements by Carolyn Fry to Jack and Imam); the identities of the initial survivors; cause of death for those who did not continue to survive; etc. But, the final question required an essay type description, in as much detail as possible, of the events after the crash until their escape from the planet. Particular emphasis was put on describing the actions of any initially surviving crew, the merc William Johns and his prisoner Richard B. Riddick.  
  
The essays presented no problem as far as insuring that Imam's and Jack's stories matched. The only alteration necessary was that Riddick had perished with Carolyn Fry rather than returning to the skiff and that Jack had been able to fly the skiff off planet. Nor did Imam have any reservations about telling these two lies. The difficulty was that Imam and Jack had to relive the terrible events to write them.  
  
Imam, who was recovering from the poison very quickly under Syrus' talented hands, had been pale and stoic. His report of the events was concise, factual and contained a minimum of emotional or personal remarks. He had, however, made it clear that he thought that Carolyn Fry had shown great courage after her initial lapse during the crash landing, that William Johns had been an evil man and that Riddick had been, somewhat reluctantly, their savior.   
  
Jack had broken into tears many times and, while her report was chronological and supported the facts given in Imam's, it was far, far longer and filled with personal opinions and emotional reactions. It gave a much more graphic picture of both the people involved and the horror of their experience. It also demonstrated her love for Carolyn, growing hatred and fear of Johns and complete hero-worship of Riddick from the very beginning. Imam's betrayal of Riddick was there as well, along with several other uncomplimentary images of him. They demonstrated nothing more than the fact that the man was human; human and under a great deal of stress and emotional turmoil. However, stacked against Jack's idolized image of Riddick, it wasn't a pretty picture.  
  
That the stories were basically in agreement while containing discrepancies in opinion, perspective and knowledge of the events had satisfied the lawyers of MMM&P as to their veracity. But for Jenna, they highlighted the differences in the opinions the two had of Riddick and each other and brought another problem to a head. As she read and compared them, she came to the conclusion that Jack and Imam must read each other's versions, Riddick must read both and all three of them must sit down together and not get up from the table until they had agreed on what the truth was. Riddick and Imam didn't need this but Jack did.  
  
After reading both reports, Riddick had agreed with Jenna but had insisted that she "join the party" because,  
  
"Jack's going to need a shoulder to cry on when she finds out just what a rotten judge of character she is".  
  
Jenna set up the meeting in the lounge of the infirmary. It turned ugly almost immediately and ended explosively. When Riddick had validated Imam's opinion that Carolyn should have saved her own life instead of his, Jack had argued with him until he had lashed out angrily.  
  
"I didn't ask for it! But she did it and now I have to pay for that! When she suckered me into coming back for the two of you, she asked me a question, 'Didn't I want to rejoin the human race' and I told her I didn't know how. But now, I've got to learn how! Debts have to be paid and I have to do my damnedest to see that she didn't die for nothing! And every time I think about it, I wish that she had left my fucking ass behind and saved her own!"  
  
Jenna had her answers to a great many questions but she could see that Jack had lost everything after Riddick's admission that he hadn't intended to return to the cave for the others. Jack stared at Riddick with shock widened eyes throughout the rest of it and for several moments thereafter. When she finally spoke, her voice was anguished and barely above a whisper.  
  
"You ... you weren't coming back for us?"  
  
Riddick stood, leaned over the table and fixed the distressed young woman with a sneer. Jenna knew what was coming and silently damned Riddick for his choice of this harsh method of breaking Jack's too idealistic image of him. She suppressed a shudder as his voice, filled with anger just seconds ago, became brutally cold.  
  
"No. Carolyn saved your life, not me. Fuck, kid. You lived on the streets long enough to know how it is. You just got stupid and went soft. Get over it."  
  
With that, he turned and walked from the room without a backward glance.  
  
Imam had immediately reached a comforting hand toward Jack. Like any animal in pain, she had turned on him.  
  
"Don't touch me, you fucking hypocrite! Sure, you were right about him! Why not?! You weren't any better back there. You and your praying! What a crock of shit! At least he killed the mother fuckers!"  
  
Riddick had been right that Jack needed a shoulder but he had been wrong that Jenna could provide it. In the next breath, Jack turned on her as well.  
  
"And don't you give me any of your yoyo bullshit! You and your money and easy life! You don't know nothing about nothing. You're just as lame as Imam. Both of you can just leave me the hell alone!"  
  
Jack seemed to run out of words. Slamming both fists into the table top she jumped up and ran from the lounge.  
  
After comforting Imam, Jenna had returned to the bridge. Assuring herself that Jack had retreated to a safe location (her quarters), Jenna got a very strong cup of coffee, spent about a minute and a half considering just how much she wanted to kick Riddick's ass all over the ship and then began searching for the best way to handle the situation that his shock-troops approach had created.  
  
Of the four other people that Jack knew well enough that she might allow them to approach her, three were not candidates for counseling her. Aside from the fact that they should not be privy to Riddick's secret, Nagia had serious problems of her own to deal with and Mira was still basically a naive child. This naivete also applied to Ben even though he was older. That left Jeeter. The street-wise little tough was the only one with the background and experience that Jack would trust. If Riddick didn't like Jeeter knowing who he was and spending a lot of time alone with Jack, he would just have to live with it. Jenna hoped it would lead him to reconsider his methods of dealing with people.  
  
Explaining the situation fully to Jeeter, letting him read the reports, Jenna left it to his discretion how he handled it. She never asked him what was said between him and Jack but the results proved that she had made the right choice. After three days of shunning silence to everyone but Jeeter, Jack had apologized to both Jenna and Imam for her outburst and, though she still avoided Riddick, had taken up her bridge position and training on Jenna's duty shift.  
  
If Riddick had a problem with Jack's close association with Jeeter, he kept it to himself. Jenna wasn't sure that he was dealing as well with the new attitude of respect and admiration that Jeeter was sending his way. She suspected that Riddick was not aware of the true reason for it; that it had nothing to do with his public reputation as a mass murderer and master of escape but, rather, with whatever had really happened in the Forces incident for which Riddick was originally sent to prison. It seemed that the lower echelons of the Forces agreed with Jenna's opinion of the raw deal he had been given and it was still mentioned occasionally, even years later, when Jeeter had been part of them. But, that was something that Jeeter and Riddick would have to work out on their own.  
  
Jenna had also had her own little session of dealing with unpleasant memories. Since the poison had been of his own design, Syrus had demanded a full report on the incident of her use of the deadly earring. He had insisted on brutally graphic detail in her description of G's reactions. His opinion that less than thirty seconds of massive head pain was a relatively painless death and that the conscious brain would have been detached from any awareness of the convulsions did little to ease Jenna's loathsome memories.  
  
Finally, his explanation that nothing better could be devised for the limited volume of a camouflaged dispenser forced her to accept that this, like most things, would remain imperfect and that she would just have to reconcile herself to that. On further consideration, she had to agree with him that such a death was very much preferable to capture; to suffering interrogation, the guilt of betraying the others and then a life time of virtual slavery, allowing their work to be twisted to the perverted uses the Company and the Forces would find for it.  
  
No questions of conscience or morality arose. Jenna preferred to believe that this was because Syrus trusted her judgement that G was a valid threat rather than the probable truth that he really didn't care one way or the other as long as Jenna wasn't having any difficulty dealing with it. If she had been, Jenna was quite sure Syrus would have blackened her perception of his soul twice over to remove any stain she had painted on her own.  
  
Syrus had also used this opportunity to spring a little surprise on Jenna. It seemed that while she had been busy with the creation and supplying of the ships, he had 'lowered his standards sufficiently' to make use of the flight simulator and the coursework in navigation and felt that he was prepared to qualify as bridge crew in both of these slots. While Jenna had no doubt of this, Syrus would never make a claim he couldn't back up, she sent him on a qualifying run with Riddick in the BC. Upon their return, Jenna read Riddick's terse, "He'll do", as the high praise that it was.  
  
Though Riddick and Jenna remained the only hyper pilots, Syrus' addition to the bridge crew did a great deal to simplify the duty and training schedules. Shift one became Jenna and Jack; shift two, Riddick and Ben; and shift three, Syrus and Jeeter.  
  
During the on duty shifts, Jeeter and Syrus trained each other and Jenna and Riddick trained Jack and Ben in all the bridge slots. All six also used this time to do their studying for Sasha's weekly cultural picks, choosing the parts they wished to play and designing their costumes. Off shifts were spent in training for the rest of the crew.  
  
That turned out to be a short list. Nagia concentrated on her plants and medical training from Syrus and refused to participate in any defense training. Imam remained a patient under Syrus' care and basically a passenger. David and Jeff both qualified to carry non-lethal stunners and then quit defense training. Sasha stunned herself silly and went back to party arranging and redecorating without qualifying for any weapon. None of the three showed interest in training for any bridge position.  
  
Though the terrible trio did seem to be cooperating with the rest of their crew assignments and all three were taking their turns at tutoring Mira, Jenna's internal alarm system went on yellow alert every time one of them crossed her path. She couldn't get a clue as to what they were up to but she would bet her last credit that they were up to it. Also, no one had approached the tracking device planted in the hanger and there was still no clue as to who was responsible for the tarantula, either. Jenna took out her frustrations about these matters in physical exercise.  
  
The gym sessions became an exchange of talents between Mr. Sen, Syrus, Rafferty, Jenna, Riddick and Jeeter and the six of them cooperating in training Ben, Mira and Jack. To Jenna's amusement it soon became apparent that Jack and Mira were going to be the more deadly students. Outside of his fits of uncontrolled fury, Ben truly had a gentle nature. Though he was working on getting the right to carry a rather flashy dress sword, he was more than content to limit himself to painful but only disabling techniques for the rest of it. The two young women, on the other hand, were seriously intent on becoming just as dangerous as their teachers.  
  
Though Jenna issued everyone gas masks and demanded that they take the training necessary to use them and carry them on their person at all times, training with the remainder of Mr. Sen's more modern arsenal would wait until they settled planetside. Putting a disrupter hole in your spaceship really wasn't a good idea.  
  
In unspoken agreement, the shift that Syrus and Jeeter sat the bridge had become Jenna's and Riddick's time alone. They retained their own apartments with no mixing of their belongings, but the connecting hatch between had been unlocked. Jenna would bathe and go to bed, perhaps even doze off to awaken to Riddick sliding in beside her and pulling her into his embrace. Sometimes they made love, sometimes only kissed and touched comfortingly, before falling asleep wrapped around each other. In the 'morning' Riddick would slip away back to his apartment just before Jenna's alarm would sound.  
  
It was a dream-like time. No words passed between them except for those murmured, moaned or cried out during their love making. For those hours, nothing existed for Jenna but the pleasure of being with Riddick; not anything in their pasts, not whatever might lie in the future, not even whatever else was occurring in the present.  
  
Afterward, sitting her shift, she sometimes wondered if it was the same for him but didn't allow even this thought to intrude on the time they were together. She had told Riddick that whatever happened between them would be his to decide. In honor of this promise, she allowed herself no expectations; concentrating on memorizing every moment of their private time; storing them away as a miser hoards his treasures. If this was all that she would ever have of Riddick, she was determined to have it untainted by any negative emotions.  
  
The corollary to this was that during their visits to each other's duty shifts to discuss ship's business were completely devoid of the sexual tensions and teasing that had occurred before they became lovers. The only exceptions were the weekly Saturday parties and Sunday dinners. In both situations, they were quite obviously a courting couple playing whatever games the culture being studied allowed them.  
  
These play sessions had turned out to be a great deal of fun for Jenna. After the first set, based predictably on New Meccan culture, where both Riddick and Jenna had played it fairly straight, Jenna had decided to heat things up. Sasha had unknowingly cooperated with this by choosing the quite barbaric culture of Tannic 5 for that week. After ascertaining that Riddick had chosen to dress as a chieftain, Jenna modified the native slave costume to include a little modesty.  
  
When she had walked into the commonroom, handed Riddick her leash and then proceeded to kneel beside him and begin hand feeding him the meal, she actually saw his eyes widen slightly in surprise before they slitted wickedly and a matching leer curled his lips. Riddick had countered during the formal dinner, where couples ate from the same trencher, by feeding her the whole meal from the tip of his dagger and stroking her under the cover of the table; keeping her close to climax for most of the meal.  
  
Sasha had given Jenna a grudging smile when naming her and Riddick as the winners of that week's contest and had chosen a much more civilized culture for the next weekend. Still, Riddick and Jenna had found ways to keep up the game even under those limiting conditions.  
  
Though there was a great deal of intermingling, the parties had revealed other pairings. The established trio of David, Jeff and Sasha continued as soon as Rafferty's disinterest became apparent to Sasha. Mr. Sen, Imam and Nagia seemed to have formed another, though strictly social, triad. That Jack and Jeeter were together didn't surprise Jenna but that Ben and Mira were making shy overtures to each other was a pleasant one.  
  
But most surprising of all was the fact that, to Jenna's discerning eye, Syrus and Rafferty seemed to be engaged in something more than the general conversation one would expect from two men thrown together only by the groupings of the others. While Syrus had always protected any aspect of his personal life very jealously, Rafferty's sexual preference was a known fact and Syrus, though not handsome in the classical sense, was very compelling in both looks and personality.  
  
Jenna only hoped that Syrus had progressed far enough beyond his past mental instability that he was interested in Rafferty as a sexual partner rather than one for an assisted suicide attempt. The long period of time since he had last sought out the darker side of society, returning disheveled and sometimes injured, and his making the effort to learn to pilot and navigate seemed to suggest that he had. Since Jenna did not trust Rafferty sufficiently to make him aware of Syrus' possible weaknesses, she couldn't do anything but watch and wait.  
  
Rafferty also occupied Jenna's thoughts in another matter; the rescue of Nagia's daughter, Sissua. He had accepted Jenna's challenge and had spend a great deal of time with Nagia and Imam finding out everything he could about Sulleman, his resident slave quarters and any contacts that either Nagia or Imam might have that could give him access to the girl if she were still there or provide her location if Sulleman had followed through with his threat to sell her.  
  
In the end, he had decided that Nagia must accompany any rescue party not only to ensure the identity of the child but also the cooperation of the contact in Sulleman's household. Nagia bravely accepted the necessity of returning to New Mecca but Jenna sensed real terror under that facade. This and the fact that Jenna didn't want to risk either the Hole or the BC by arranging a rendezvous to transfer Nagia to one of Rafferty's ships made the rescue another job for 'Captain Jen's raiders'. When she announced that she and Riddick would accompany Rafferty and Nagia, she was met with a full mutiny of her bridge crew. They were united in their demand that Jenna not be part of the rescue party.  
  
Though Jenna knew that their real concern was her safety, the reason they gave, that both hyper pilots couldn't be put at risk, was not one she could argue with. When she tried countering it with the flat statement that she wouldn't allow the BC to return to New Mecca with only one qualified pilot aboard, Syrus had immediately volunteered to join the rescue.  
  
The thought of what could happen between Syrus, Riddick and Rafferty during a long period of forced close contact was almost terrifying. Syrus' whispered promise to bring her 'dark knight' back to her 'intact' didn't help very much. That Nagia seemed much less fearful when informed of the choice, reassured Jenna a great deal more.  
  
But now, the group had been gone for almost six days and Jenna's imagination had gone through every horrible scenario possible and was beginning to repeat itself. As Jenna looked across the bridge at Jack, she could see that she wasn't the only one suffering. Jack was in worse shape.  
  
"It will be ok, Jack. He's tougher than anything they can throw at him."  
  
This open the flood gates for Jack, just as Jenna had known it would. She found her lap full of sobbing teenager.  
  
"Oh, Captain Jen, I ... I didn't even tell him goodbye ...... didn't tell him I love him anyway."  
  
"It's all right, Jack. He'll be back. You can tell him then."  
  
Jenna rocked the girl and made comforting noises. All the while, she was praying like hell that she wasn't lying. 


	28. Chapter 28 Separate Thoughts

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
Chapter 28 – Separate Thoughts  
  
Jenna tossed and turned, unable to fall asleep. She had tried her best to wear herself out in the gym but it hadn't worked. Jack, Ben and Mira had all given up first. Then, Mr. Sen had literally sent her to her room, with orders to 'get some rest', when she had tried to cajole him into taking their place. Now, she was fighting the sheets, trying to find comfort where there was none. In the last seven nights added together, she doubted that she had gotten the equivalent of one good night's rest. The bed was too big, too lonely, too cold without Riddick in it.  
  
She couldn't understand how that was possible. She had spent her whole life sleeping alone. Just the opposite should have happened. She should have had trouble adjusting to having him in her bed – not have, in three short weeks, become dependent on it to be able to sleep peacefully. And, it wasn't just because of worry over the return of the mission to rescue Sissua being long overdue. She hadn't slept well from the beginning. She could lie to herself a thousand times a day telling herself that she could keep her bargain, could live easily with whatever choice Riddick made about their relationship, but a few moments in her empty bed made it all wasted effort.  
  
This was not good. To need others, to be dependent on someone else's whim for emotional stability and comfort – that was such a dangerous and painful risk. Her parents' and little brother's deaths, unsuitable foster home after foster home, even the initial cold reception of those she now called ... what ... associates, yes ... friends ... perhaps, in the case of Syrus. Only Ben could even come close to being anything more and then only because of his deeper need for her. And that was the crux of it. To be needed was acceptable. To need was not. She had gone through a great deal of that pain before she had learned to protect herself from it. Could she allow herself to be anything other than that, other than sufficient unto herself?  
  
She wouldn't like herself as some clingy, needful basket case and she was damn sure that Riddick wouldn't either. It was quite probably their individual self-sufficiency that had drawn them to each other in the first place. Could she find some intermediate state of wanting but not wanting too much? A compromise that wouldn't drive Riddick, the focus of that wanting, away from her? A compromise that wouldn't let the awful pain of before come rushing back?  
  
As she thought about these new feelings, she realized that it was an even worse problem – that a great deal more was at risk. The basic purpose that she had always served was threatened. She was the group's caretaker, their balance. She couldn't be that if she let her own needs get in the way. But, ever since she had met Riddick that was exactly what she had been doing. She had thought of what she wanted rather than what was best for the group.  
  
Even before, when it was nothing but his file, she had brought the anger of the Institute down on the group and caused the in-house split that was plaguing them now and had most probably caused the insertion of spy-ware in the main computer and the bay. Since becoming acquainted with the man in person, she had done even more. At his instigation, she had made decisions based on her desire for the ships, her desire for the freedom of space, for the euphoria of hyper; most of all her desire to continue the association with Riddick.  
  
True, thus far, her personal desires and her duty had not come into any real conflict. The results of his employment and of the unauthorized detour to aid his people had actually been beneficial for the group. But, if she allowed this change in her to continue, that would not always be the case. What choice would she make then?  
  
Damn Riddick for doing this to her! No! Damn herself for letting him!  
  
Giving up the battle with the bedding, Jenna dragged herself into the kitchenette, punched up a cup of strong coffee with plenty of sugar and cream and began going over the situation with the rescue mission like a dog worrying a bone that had been worried to splinters already. Her own personal feeling aside, the only personnel loss that concerned the group was that of Syrus. The connection with MMM&P and with Rafferty's people could be maintained through his second-in-command and Jenna already had accomplished the introduction to hyper that had been the main purpose of Riddick's employment, at least as far as the group was concerned. Also, Mira had received sufficient training from Nagia to continue with the cultivation and preservation of the hydroponics gardens. However, though Jenna did have a certain amount of expertise as a physician, her talents were nowhere near Syrus' when it came to coping with primitive conditions in an emergency and quite inadequate for a colony situation.  
  
The other possible loss, a crippling one, was the BC. How could she have been so stupid as to equip them with only one planet-landing-capable auxiliary ship?! But that problem was being dealt with. Jenna's first act had been to place orders with the original manufacturers of the BC, the skimmer and the hanger to provide duplicates. This, however, would take some time and did nothing to alleviate the current problem. They needed a second auxiliary ship now. No matter what the needs of the group, Jenna had been the one to order the rescue mission and she'd be damned if she was going to abandon any of them without some attempt at a retrieval.  
  
Luckily, Jenna hadn't completely boxed herself in. The hanger wouldn't hold another ship the size of the BC but it would accommodate something close to three-quarters its size or two others; one approximately half as large that could be used for smaller transport, such as personal items from the apartments, and one much smaller that would be only for personnel transport and scouting with a cargo capacity limited to the skimmer. This second option was the direction that Jenna had chosen.  
  
Three auxiliaries might be overkill but that was better than her original lack of foresight. Also, it was much more likely that they would be able to find such smaller ships than one the size of the BC. However, only one would be purchased at New Mecca. Jenna wanted to keep the hanger secret and it would look very suspicious for a freighter with only one docking lock to be purchasing two auxiliaries.  
  
Jenna had decided to go for the small scout-ship. Since there would be no need to outfit it with hyper drive, it would require less modification to be brought into line with the Hole and the BC. Its purchase would cause less suspicion than that of a larger one. Also, the primary goal had to be the recovery of the BC even if they could not recover her crew. But, since Jenna would be the only pilot left if that were the situation, the new ship would need to fit into the bay of the BC for both to be brought back to the Hole.  
  
Jack, Ben and Jeeter had been using all their bridge time hacking around to find something suitable on New Mecca and had several prospects located. The problem was they hadn't yet found a refurbishing yard or a parts supplier with the type of shady reputation necessary for the modifications that would make a new acquisition as useful as they needed it to be. Jenna was sucking on her third cup of coffee and fuming over this delay when the com- unit squawked at her.  
  
"Lady, you awake, Lady?"  
  
"Yes, Jeeter, what's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing's wrong, Lady. Things are finally going a little right. I've found just what we need and with most ah the extra stuff we wanted already on it. We'd only have to do the com work on it. Plus, it comes with a skimmer as part of the package. Price ain't bad either."  
  
Jenna felt like screaming, dancing, pounding the walls – anything to express the relief, the joy. No more sitting around. Now she could do something.  
  
"Get Jack to the bridge and have her plot an out system and return by a normal traffic lane and a berthing orbit for New Mecca. I'll be there as soon as I can."  
  
"Ah ... It ain't on New Mecca, Lady. We're gonna have to do a little hyper jump to pick it up. It shouldn't take more than twenty-four hours to do the deal and get back. He gave me the hyper track in and out. It's direct from here, no secondary jump, but it ain't one of the registered ones. And, he'll take all that Darius currency we got laying around as payment. The little it won't cover we can do with a few of the cheaper pieces ah G's loot.  
  
Jenna began silently weighing the risks. Her silence must have worried Jeeter and he continued making explanations.  
  
"... I'm sorry about this ... about us having to go out-system with him and Syrus still down there ... but it's ... Well damn, Lady, these New Meccans just ain't the kinda righteous low-lives we need to be dealing with. They're all for shady goods, smuggling and that, but nothing that's really gonna get 'em on the bad side ah the Patrol like weapons dealing. And you gotta admit that the kinda ship you want, equipped the way you want it, comes under that heading. That's why I started looking for this kinda deal.  
  
"And it's a safe deal, a righteous one. I promise. It's someone I met while I was working for Tio and he owes me a little. 'Sides, we'll be doing him a favor. The ship's got a hoodoo on it for his regular customers and he ain't been able to find a buyer. That's why the price is so good."  
  
Jenna's first reaction was disappointment. On second thought, though, it wasn't such a bad situation. It would require that she handle the sedation of everyone on board by herself and make her first solo hyper jump and return. However, they would have the ship they needed almost immediately and from a source that would ask no questions. Securing this type of information and contacts was the reason that she had gone into the dark alleys of Darius 4 looking for people like Riddick and Jeeter. It would be very foolish not to make use of it.  
  
"Give Jack the tracks and have her start setting them into the nav console. Call Ben to the bridge as well. He needs to program and set a message buoy on the security frequency to tell Riddick what we are doing in case he does return while we are gone. Then have Ben make a list of anything we'll need but don't have in stock to modify the com equipment to match our own. Perhaps your friend can supply those as well. As soon as Ben has dropped the buoy, Jack should start moving us out-system, fast. I'll get the hypos ready and everyone else sedated. As soon as I get to the bridge, I'll sedate you, Jack and Ben and make the jump."  
  
"You got it, Lady. Only ... make sure you got wake-up and return hyper hypos for me. I don't want you going in-system or trying to do this deal without me in the weapon's slot. The Hole's an awful tempting haul ... even for an old friend."  
  
As Jenna prepared the hypos, she was very grateful to Syrus for his obsessive adherence to proper procedure. Jump and revival hypos for everyone were already preprogrammed. All she had to do was feed the list, sans Syrus, Riddick and Nagia, into the hypo-loader and wait for the filled capsules to pop out. Those collected, she ran the revival and second sedation for Jeeter as well as doing his precaution one better by adding Jack and Mira to that list. Then, as a precaution in case the return jump couldn't be made before the initial sedations expired, a second set of hyper hypos for every one else; not advised by the manual without revival and some awake time but perhaps necessary.  
  
She made a short explanation to Mr. Sen but used a 'take-it-or-suffer' attitude with Sasha, David and Jeff. It wasn't long before she had them sleeping peacefully in their beds and she and Mira were stepping onto the bridge. As soon as she had Ben's list and had sedated him, Jenna ordered Jeeter to get four of the larger lethal stunners and belts to display them prominently as sidearms from the weapons pod. While he was doing this, Jenna explained the situation to Jack and Mira while she checked Jack's plots into the nav console and made a few refining adjustments. As soon as Jeeter returned, she passed out the weapons and sedated him, Jack and Mira.  
  
It wasn't but a few minutes after she had returned to the command slot that she began to feel the change in the fabric of space that signaled the presence of the unregistered hyper gate. After several deep breaths and a prayer, she threw the Hole into the tube.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
"I. Don't. Talk. In. My. Sleep!"  
  
The low growl reverberated off the thick stone walls of the dungeon cell. The equally deep but silkier tones that answered seemed to slither and caress the granite rather than assaulting it.  
  
"Perhaps you are right. The mantra-like moaning of a single name does not constitute 'talking'. It is, however, just as annoying. It may be that it is even more annoying since it divulges no secrets to which I am not already privy and thus provides no entertainment."  
  
"It's gonna be more annoying if I pound the shit out of you for waking me up."  
  
"Oh, be still my heart. My prayers may have been answered. Do you think you could manage to inflict a fatal coma?"  
  
"You'd enjoy that too much. How are your ribs?"  
  
"The sacrifice of your shirt to bind them has alleviated the pain somewhat. However, I do not think that I will survive another session with that lout's boots. Though, I should think that our jailor being allowed to brutalize us may suggest that they have given up the foolish notion that either of us will reveal the location of the others. That would be a boon. I would rather be kicked to death than suffer the insult of another session with that untutored sadist that Sulleman employs as his interrogator."  
  
"No such luck. You just pissed the little sycophant off with that running commentary on the sloppiness of his technique. You even had Sulleman chuckling behind his hand. You embarrassed him in front of the boss. That's why he let the goon have at us. Just where did you learn to be so damn vicious?"  
  
"Studies in surgery are an excellent beginning in becoming an 'educated' sadist. But 'sycophant'? I must say that, for a mass murderer and scum of the universe, you have a surprising vocabulary when you choose to use it, Richard."  
  
Riddick's attention snapped to alert status. The conversation had just been something to pass the time, maybe even give a little comfort to his snarky companion. As out of character as it was for Riddick, he had come to respect the dark man. If Riddick's bulk and spirit were made of unyielding pig iron, Syrus' deceptive lanky frame and well-camouflaged sense of honor were constructed of spun steel. Giving someone who was torturing you a critique of his methods was about the ballsy-ist thing that Riddick had ever witnessed. He had found that he appreciated the man as he would any fine blade. But, Syrus' revelation that he was aware of Riddick's true identity had just made that blade a possible threat. Riddick didn't insult the man's intelligence by attempting to deny the truth.  
  
"When did you find out?"  
  
"I knew from the first day we met. You had become of great interest to me long before that. Anything that could bring such passion to a child that had completely shut off her emotions was intriguing. That I have a great fondness for that child made studying you an imperative. Unlike her, I had no reason not to download the identifying factors in your file."  
  
"I'll bet that meeting was a real shock."  
  
"Only so far as the fact that the 'fates' or whatever had demonstrated they possessed the logic to bring the two of you together. They usually seem too capricious to make such proper matchings. I'm going to try to sleep now. Please, moan about her more quietly."  
  
Riddick wasn't sure exactly what name to put to his reaction to that. Shock ... yeah, that pretty well covered it. Damn! The cold bastard had just turned Riddick's head inside out. Even as twisted and dark as the man was, Riddick couldn't get his mind around the fact that Syrus had just approved of a 'child', that he was 'fond of', taking Richard B. Riddick for her lover ... and possibly more. 'Matchings' – that sure as hell sounded like more.  
  
Fuck! That wasn't something that Riddick wanted to think about right now. Especially right now, locked in Sulleman's dungeons with twice daily torture sessions that made it a good bet that he wasn't going to survive to even see Jenna again, much less do anything about that 'more'. And just what was that supposed to goddamn be anyway? 'Big Evil' didn't do 'more'. He fucked 'em until he got his fill and then disappeared.  
  
Then that aggravating little voice, that had been getting louder and louder ever since T-2 and Carolyn, horned-in on the conversation. "Well, Big Evil, just how long do you think it's going to take you to get your fill of this one? Huh? You've already been with her more nights in a row than anyone since Beshue and you're just as hungry for her as when you started. What's more, even if you don't want to admit it, it ain't just your dick that's hot for her."  
  
And that was the awful truth of it. Just like the first time, every night afterward he had stayed with Jenna, holding her close even after he had fallen asleep. Hell, some of those nights they hadn't even had sex, just held each other. That was something he had never done with anyone but Beshue. Now, according to Syrus, he was calling out for her in his sleep.  
  
This was not good. This was fucking bad. The only way to stay safe on the run was to run alone. To do anything else was to risk being tracked, being caught – giving the mercs someone to use against him. Or ... leaving someone behind pissed enough to put them on his trail. He hated himself for thinking that Jenna might be capable of that. But others had been so why not her? Besides, it wasn't always the woman. Syrus or Ben would do something like that in a heartbeat if they decided that Riddick had hurt Jenna, had used her.  
  
Ok, ok. He didn't want to leave Jenna behind right now. Hell, all he wanted to do was to get back to her. But what about later? He could count on one hand the number of people he had ever known that didn't have at least one break up in their history. Most of them had a lot more than one. And most of those breakups had left kids hanging onto the razor sharp shards that were left of one parent or the other and expected to hate the one that wasn't there. After enough of seeing that, he sometimes thought that he had gotten the better deal of it by not knowing who it was that didn't want him and being able to hate both of his unknown parents just because he wanted to.  
  
That had been something he had talked over with Beshue. Not surprisingly, she had shared his pessimistic view of uncontrolled procreation. He had quite willingly followed her advice to get himself cut so he never had to worry about adding to that population of miserable kids, kids like he had been. But that was reversible. What if remaining with Jenna demanded that from him? She was so young and yet the way she took care of the others in the group, of Ben; she would be a wonderful mother, the kind every lost kid he had ever known would kill to have. But what kind of a father would he make? How long would they have to be together before he could take that chance? Would he ever be willing to take that chance?  
  
Now this was really stupid! He was laying here worrying about kids when he didn't know if he was capable of sticking around at all.  
  
He screamed back at the little voice, "You know that this would be a lot fucking easier to figure out if I knew what she wanted that 'more' to be. What kind of answer is 'What ever you want it to be.'? What kind of game is she playing with me?"  
  
He really didn't want to think about this. But what else was there to think about? – the fucked up rescue attempt that had put him here? He felt like he had beaten that to death already. But ... he had to think of something else and he still hadn't figured out what, or rather who, had gone bad. Leaning back against the hard stone, doing his best to take the pressure off of the worst of his injuries, he forced the worst pain, his ache for Jenna, to the back of his mind and began searching his memories of events, since landing on New Mecca, once again. 


	29. Chapter 29 Plans Within Plans

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
Chapter 29 – Plans Within Plans  
  
Riddick hadn't liked the setup of the operation from the beginning. While it might have been a great way to test Rafferty as long as only he and his men were involved, Jenna's putting the BC and her own people on the line was about the stupidest risk that he could think of. As things proceeded, his attitude went from bad to worse. The sum total of his experience and mindset was screaming for another stealthy raid like the one on the compound. Rafferty's plan was for an open landing on New Mecca with the BC and her crew playing the roles of an independent trader in luxury goods. It was his intention to legally purchase Sissua, if possible, and avoid any 'complications' and 'bloodshed'.  
  
This qualification was uttered in a tone that left no doubt as to Rafferty's aversion to such uncouth behavior and exactly who he expected to stifle such urges. As far as Riddick was concerned, Rafferty had been away from the front lines too long; had forgotten that, while quick, quiet and dirty didn't look good on paper, it was the best way to get the job done and survive. He had given Rafferty one of his best 'I-don't-give-a-fuck, you-shit' grins and proceeded to make his own plans for when Rafferty's plan went to hell.  
  
Two months ago, this would have been no problem for Riddick. His new identity was now securely in place. He could never be legally identified as Richard B. Riddick again. It would be a simple matter for him to disappear from New Mecca and assume the life of Elric (Rick) Wade, licensed Keller and hyper pilot anywhere he landed. All he would have felt obligated to do was to get a warning off to the Hole before he lamed out. Yeah, two months ago but not now.  
  
Jack wasn't the problem. She knew enough to hunker down, stay safe and trust him to find a way to get back for her later. Jenna was a totally different thing. To protect her, Riddick had to protect the security of the group. To do that, he had to see that the BC and any member of the crew were either returned to the Hole or destroyed beyond any possibility of providing identification and tracing information. If he didn't do it, Jenna would feel obligated to try it herself.  
  
His preference was for getting the BC, himself and, damn it to hell, Syrus back to the Hole in fairly good shape. Flaming Syrus' corpse to unrecognizable ash was an option he didn't want to think about. He was sure that Jenna would deal with it if he lost Rafferty and Nagia but he really didn't want to face the pain that losing Syrus would put in those beautiful eyes. Riddick had the feeling that it would hurt her as much as losing Ben, maybe even more. If Ben was her 'little brother/son', Syrus was at least a 'big brother' and probably the closest to a 'father' she had.  
  
It had really pissed Riddick off to discover that the list of people that he was feeling responsible for was getting longer and longer. Part of him screamed "Why?" and another part, "Don't ask! You're not ready to deal with the answer." Pushing these disturbing thoughts to the back of his mind, he focused on mitigating whatever disaster Rafferty was going to walk them into.  
  
The major problem would be that the BC would be grounded at a commercial port, surrounded by port security and dependent on port scheduling for a departure unless they wanted the Patrol alarms going off from the inner core to the outer settlements and the locals shooting at them the second they cleared the atmosphere. Riddick's answer to this was to memorize every fact he could get his hands on about the current port administration, layout and security procedures. He then expanded this to the city and its police force. His next step was to practice dry runs on the BC in the simulator until he could fly, shield and fight her, simultaneously, in his sleep. His last step was to do the same with the skimmer.  
  
In the middle of this, he had to keep up with all aspects of Rafferty's plans and be fitted for both the proper off-world and local costumes. It was also his responsibility to see to the refit of the skimmer with seating for four and enough luxury additions to pass for a successful merchant's private runabout. For his personal plans, it also had to have a security cargo capacity for fine goods that would serve as a cover to smuggle a child if the operation turned snatch-and-run. He found that Jeeter's advice was invaluable in doing a proper job of this and ended up turning the modification job over to the little man.  
  
Just about every hour of every day of the preparation, Riddick wished that he could have the tough alley rat at his back for the coming mission. He didn't trust Rafferty at all; a merc was a merc was a merc. Also, the man had been taken too easily at the compound. True, it wasn't him or his men in charge of the siege but, in Riddick's opinion, the man should have taken the precaution of setting up his own HQ away from the locals and in a more defendable location. It was just another proof to Riddick that Rafferty had lived soft for too long and had lost his edge. Any silent killing was certainly going to be Riddick's to do and if Rafferty proved too much of a liability, Riddick would have to take him out himself before the locals got their hands on him.  
  
Syrus was an unknown as far as trust. It wasn't a certainty that his loyalty to Jenna would transfer to Riddick if it came to a choice between him and Rafferty. In fact, as tight as Syrus seemed to be getting with the red-head, it was pretty doubtful. He was also unproved as a fighter. He was fast and wicked on the practice floor in a one-on-one but that was no proof that he could be depended on in a street fight against long odds. Sometimes the best on the training field froze or ran in a real firefight. If things went to hell, he could be just as much in need of Riddick's protection as Nagia.  
  
So Riddick scowled, raged internally, pushed himself to his limits and found his only peace in the silent comfort and acceptance of Jenna's arms. Then, he did what any good soldier did between prep and drop and slept in- transit, allowing Syrus to pilot the BC from the Hole to planet orbit, rousing only to supervise his taking her down to the berth at the space port.  
  
Thanks to a dark brown dye job on Rafferty's flaming hair, chocolate brown contact lenses for Nagia's rare golden eyes, excellent costuming and Ben's perfectly forged identities for the BC and her crew, there were no problems exiting the space port, settling in to a comfortable suite in a hotel reserved for off-world visitors and two days of touring the local markets setting up their cover.  
  
Syrus, with Nagia serving as translator when necessary, proved extremely capable in his role of the hard-dealing, bargain-hunting trader. Riddick decided that if there hadn't been some ancestors in Syrus' family tree who did time for sharp trading it was only because they were too sharp to be caught at it. Nagia, dressed in the more revealing, garishly colored robes denoting a body servant, did a credible job in the part of a concubine with a good amount of influence over her master. The list of suggestions for luxury items that would be appreciated by the rest of the group also helped. Sasha had done an excellent job of compiling that. After all, the members of the group were just the kind of 'spoiled', upper class patrons that a luxury goods merchant would have for customers.  
  
As for Riddick and Rafferty, as bodyguards for the merchant, all they had to do was keep silent and look dangerous. This was not a stretch for either of them. The only deception involved was in keeping their knowledge of the local language secret. Rafferty believed that this would give them some warning should anything begin to go sour. Riddick hoped that he was right.  
  
At the end of the second day of shopping, they retired to their suite and made sufficient orders from room service to suggest that they were settled in for the night. Changing into the concealing robes of the locals, they stealthily made their way out of the off-worlder area before availing themselves of the local public transportation. After more than an hour of switching back and forth between hired ground cars and rail trams, as well as traveling in pairs and switching partners, they finally arrived in the neighborhood where the contact that Nagia and Imam had agreed on, Ackbar Mosser, lived. That was when things started going pear-shaped as far as Riddick was concerned.  
  
As Jenna and Mr. Sen had suspected after monitoring the local broadcasts, the events at the compound and the disappearance of Mira had been covered up and, since the Emir was still alive, those events had forced Sulleman to delay his plans to murder the man. However, Sulleman had been busy otherwise. Most of the older, loyal members of the Emir's household staff had been 'retired' or transferred to other of his estates. The same for any of Sulleman's own household staff whose loyalties or discretion were in the least suspect. Mosser, a freeman employed by a cousin of Sulleman's, Casmir, who was also a possible successor, had been immune to this purge but had lost his ability to move freely within the royal compound, finding himself constantly in the company of one or another of Sulleman's trusted toadies whenever he ventured out of his employer's quarters. This effectively cut off any contact he might have had with any of Sulleman's household, especially those that he would consider still trustworthy to approach with questions about Sissua.  
  
The only suggestion that he could offer was that Nagia should attempt to contact the woman who had taken over her duties as herbalist to Sulleman's women's quarters. The woman, Peta, was free and the wife of Sulleman's personal physician, one Kalin Amiran. While her husband was Sulleman's, body and soul, Peta had taken much of her training from Nagia and, being a mother herself, might have sympathy for Nagia's attempt to rescue her own daughter. When Rafferty accepted this suggestion, Mosser vid-phoned Amiran and arranged an appointment for the concubine of his 'off-word merchant acquaintance' with the wife-herbalist for the following evening.  
  
All through this process, Riddick's internal alarms were shrieking. First, they had no assurance of Mosser's true loyalties. While he might be a trusted friend as far as Imam was concerned, the man could have deeper loyalties to his employer. If not that, his own personal self-interest would certainly be better served from that direction. Also, while he seemed to accept their reluctance to discuss anything but the need to find Sissua, he continued to subtly fish for more information, particularly about Mira's present location. Becoming pawns in a game between two heirs-apparent wasn't an improvement from being the target of just one.  
  
Added to that, by the man's own admission, he was already under suspicion and probably being watched even outside the royal compound. If the physician was part of Sulleman's inner circle, it was a good bet that he would report Mosser's request. As for the wife, Riddick was certain that she would put the safety of her own children above any regard for Nagia and Sissua. Riddick was beginning to feel like a jungle cat who could smell the steel cage buried under the leaves and vines.  
  
He couldn't do anything about the threat of their initial contact but he would have handled the secondary risk differently. His choice would have been a visit with the woman, without her husband's knowledge, to use a threat to the safety of her family and possibly something from Syrus' drug store to get any information she had and to insure her silence afterward. When it came to a choice between basic instincts and higher principals, Riddick would bet on basic instincts every time. But this was Rafferty's show and he wasn't taking any input from Riddick. That forced Riddick to keep his silence but it didn't stop him from making plans of his own.  
  
As soon as they returned to the hotel suite and the other three were settled for the night, Riddick slipped out again and made his own first contact. Taking the skimmer he headed for a popular off-worlder entertainment area. Once in the cover of heavy traffic, he engaged the skimmer's cloaking and exited the area in a visually acceptable manner but totally hidden from any remote tracking. As soon as he had assured himself that he had no old fashioned 'tail', he quick jumped into a virtually deserted warehouse district.  
  
It was reassuring to find that his code to the hidden garage entrance was still valid and even more reassuring to find that his code to the entrance to the apartment above it also still worked. Even the fact that he walked in to find a disrupter trained between his eyes was reassuring in its own twisted way.  
  
"Have I changed that much, Logan?"  
  
The hand with the disrupter sagged a little. The tall, thin elfish looking man drew an almost feminine hand through his long, platinum blond hair. Watery blue eyes studied Riddick intensely. When the man spoke, the boyishly sweet tenor of his voice was a stark contrast to the ancient distrust in those eyes. Not for the first time, Riddick wondered just how old, or young, the man was.  
  
"Nothing personal, Max, just being careful."  
  
The use of the old alias produced an odd twinge of pleasure that startled Riddick. He smothered it. Business was business, personalities had no place in it. Of course, after almost four years of dealing with a twist like G maybe feeling some pleasure to be dealing with Rommy again wasn't so strange. But just because he was a straight player didn't mean that Riddick could let down his guard with him. Riddick forced himself back into focus as the man continued talking.  
  
"Got to admit that the eyes did throw me. Never thought that you would really do it, give up your edge." The aim of the disrupter tightened again. "But what really worries me is that you parked a skimmer in my garage that I can see on camera but that the rest of my security systems tell me doesn't exist. I only know two sources for that kind of technology. So tell me something to convince me that you didn't buy those pretty eyes and a new life with a sell out."  
  
Riddick allowed a friendly but still dangerous smile to curve his lips.  
  
"Good to see you, too, Rommy. My contract is private but with heavy juice and they don't like the Company or the Forces any more than you do. I've got proof, that I know you'll appreciate, inside my cloak."  
  
Romulus (Rommy) Logan blinked his rain-water eyes and then motioned toward a desk further inside the room.  
  
"Put it there."  
  
Between the two veteran criminals, the warning for Riddick to be very slow and careful with his moves didn't need to be spoken. After crossing to the desk, Riddick spread one side of his cloak open and kept both his hands in plain view as he dug into a security pocket and extracted a handful of gems that he had appropriated from the stash of G's loot. Placing the gems in a pile on the desk, he moved back to his original position just inside the door.  
  
At the sight of the glittering pile, Rommy relaxed. Crossing to the desk he sat down while motioning Riddick to a companion chair. But, he didn't release his grip on the disrupter, merely laid the hand holding it in his lap with the weapon still aimed at Riddick as he crossed the room and lounged into the chair offered.  
  
"Fairly elegant proof unless the powers-that-be finally grew some real street-smarts." The fingers of his free hand idly stirred the pile, unconsciously sorting the gems by quality and type into various categories of value. "So much more appealing than lumps of artless currency. Now, tell me what I have to do to transfer as many of these beauties as possible from you to me?"  
  
Riddick kept his face impassive but was smiling broadly inside. Things were going better than he had expected. Whoever had said that 'there is no honor among thieves' just didn't know the right class of criminals. If Rommy took the deal, he would live up to it.  
  
"The first thing I need is a skimmer; a four-seater that will pass for that one and modified to broadcast its id. I need it by 08:00. The second thing is a surveillance and possible rescue or erase on four people."  
  
Eyes met. Riddick knew that he had revealed some of his history with that terminology. How Rommy answered would tell him if he was going to get the same trust in return. Riddick's muscles tensed slightly, preparing to drop the tiny disrupter from its arm sheath into his hand.  
  
"Why would you need help with that?"  
  
Riddick's muscles relaxed.  
  
"Because I'm one of the four."  
  
Rommy blinked again.  
  
"The competition that tough?"  
  
"The competition is local. It's one of ours that may be that stupid."  
  
Rommy didn't blink this time, just shot a look of understanding at Riddick. Riddick experienced another of those odd feelings. It occurred to him that someday he might like to be able to sit down and trade stories with the pale, stick of a man. Fuck, where had that come from? His mind jerked back to business when Rommy spoke again.  
  
"You got pictures?"  
  
Still moving carefully, Riddick drew copies of their id photos, that Ben had supplied him, from another pocket of his cloak. He handed them over one by one with comments.  
  
"Me – top priority for rescue but don't worry about the erase. I'm not traceable." Rommy chuckled. "This one, Syrus, he's top for rescue, too. Also top for erase. This one, Rafferty, if I don't make it, neither does he. Erase if possible but dead is good enough."  
  
"He the stupid one?"  
  
"Yeah." Riddick reluctantly handed over the last photo. "If you can't rescue her, it's a mercy killing. If Syrus or I don't survive and you can't hide her permanently, it's the same."  
  
Rommy studied the photos for several moments. Then, he pulled a selection of the gems away from the others. Riddick stood, added a particularly fine blood ruby to Rommy's selection and pocketed the rest.  
  
"Like I said, juiced. I'll be back for the skimmer at 08:00. I'll tell you where you can start the surveillance then."  
  
Rommy was busy at his vid-phone before the apartment door closed behind Riddick.  
  
Port traffic was light. It didn't take Riddick very long at all to check through security and take the BC off planet. Heading out system, he pulled the same id-buoy trick that Jenna had at Darius 4 and took the BC back to the hidden canyon that had been her first berth on New Mecca. Setting her security program to destroy the ship if anyone but registered members of the Hole's crew touched the controls, he locked her up tight. By pushing the skimmer to maximum velocity, he was able to return to Rommy's by the 08:00 deadline. A visual duplicate of his skimmer was waiting for him with Rommy standing beside it. Sticking his head out the side window, Riddick called to him.  
  
"You got someplace I can hide this one that you don't care if it blows up?"  
  
"My testing lab will do if the thing doesn't go over 10kton of blow."  
  
When Riddick nodded his affirmative, Rommy crossed to the far wall of the garage. After a complicated sequence of pokes, pushes and kicks, the wall moved out of the way. Riddick pulled the skimmer into the secure room and begin programming her with a destruct if anyone other than he or Syrus tried to operate her and with an auto pilot course to the BC. He knew that Rommy was staring into the skimmer long before the man's breathy whisper announced it officially.  
  
"God, she's a beauty. What a waste to destroy her."  
  
"Don't be tempted, Rommy. Her security is as high tech as the rest of her. And don't go looking for what's at the end of that auto course. Fooling with it would be just as deadly." Then he added sugar to the bile. "If this goes as sour as I think it will and you pull my tail out of it, I'll see that you get one like her as a bonus. Hell, I'll do better than that. The same goes for Syrus."  
  
Riddick scribbled a note on the skimmer padd, printed it and handed it to Rommy.  
  
Syrus, You make it home, you tell sweet-thing that we owe this man a skimmer with all the bells and whistles.  
First  
  
Rommy looked at the note for a hard minute.  
  
"Max, I always knew you had class." 


	30. Chapter 30 SNAFU

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
Chapter 30 – SNAFU  
  
Riddick found that Rommy had done him better on the new skimmer than he had asked for. First, it had a scrambled com channel linked to Rommy's own secure system. Second, it had some combat capacity with two 50cal machine guns, one in its nose and one in the tail. This was old tech but as good as anything the locals would have. The last modification was a choice of twenty ids that the machine could broadcast.  
  
There were also four tiny panic-button/trackers that could easily be hidden in the skimpiest costume. One of them, slightly larger than the others, was also a pager. Riddick concealed this one in the waistband of his shorts and stashed the other three in the lock-box of the skimmer. Rommy could always be trusted to take care of the details.  
  
After informing Rommy of the hotel they were using and giving him a rough idea of their plans for the day and the expected trouble spot of the evening's business, Riddick headed back to the hotel. Using a different id than the one set when the skimmer was brought to the garage, he flew it back to the entertainment area. Once merged with the snarl of morning traffic there, he switched to the id of the BC's skimmer and went directly back to the hotel. He pulled into the assigned parking slot to find Rafferty waiting for him.  
  
"Where in the hell have you been?!"  
  
Rafferty might be stupid enough to risk breaking their cover in a public area but Riddick wasn't. He gave Rafferty a smirk and walked passed him toward the private entrance to the suite.  
  
"Get the stick out of your ass, Sikes. You know the boss doesn't care if I get myself a little fun as long as I'm back before he needs us. I'll lay odds that he hasn't even finished his second cup of Java yet. If I was you, I'd wait until we're on our way to the markets and he's in business mode before you start any bitching. You start before he's really awake and he'll be hell on wheels all day."  
  
Rafferty took the hint and shut up until the group had finished breakfast and were safely inside the skimmer headed for the markets. By that time, his anger was on slow simmer rather than rolling boil. Riddick didn't see that as much of an improvement. The man was still thinking with his ego instead of making any effort to use his brains.  
  
"This is my operation and you are under my orders. I want to know where you've been, what you've done, where our original skimmer is ... all of it!"  
  
Nagia, already on edge from the obvious tension between the two men, started at Rafferty's outburst. Syrus, quite the opposite, seemed totally unaffected except for the sardonic gleam of interest in his eyes. That and his relaxed posture reminded Riddick of a picture he had seen depicting some Caesar watching two gladiators in the arena. It made Riddick wonder just which direction Syrus' thumb would be pointing if he decided to take sides.  
  
"This may be your operation but I'm here to see that it doesn't create a security risk. As far as what I do about that, you're on a need-to-know and, right now, you don't."  
  
"Listen, mister, Sen made me Chief of Security."  
  
"That's colony security. This is ship's business."  
  
Rafferty didn't have a chance to reply to this.  
  
"First is quite correct. Jenna would expect no less of him."  
  
This softly delivered but damning judgment hit Rafferty like a stunner beam. His attention whipped away from Riddick to discover Syrus watching him with dark amusement. Riddick almost felt sorry for the merc. Whatever their relationship was, it was obvious that Rafferty hadn't realized that, when it came to Syrus, you were dealing with the devil, a devil who had only one loyalty other than to himself.  
  
It made Riddick wonder just how badly the man had misjudged himself, Mr. Sen and Jenna as well; not to mention the power plays within the group. Rafferty had been too comfortable and self-confident for Riddick's taste after his first meeting with Mr. Sen. If this little lesson shook him up enough, maybe the man would be less inclined to go along with any dirty tricks of Sen's or pull any of his own. Riddick decided to give him just a little more to think about.  
  
"Trust me, Rafferty, if you do anything to threaten that security, you won't survive long enough to regret it. Or have you forgotten what happened at the compound? Now, if I were you, I'd spend the rest of the day trying to find the holes in your plan for tonight's business and figuring out ways to plug them."  
  
Rafferty stared at Riddick for a hard minute but then turned away without making any return comment. His silence continued for the rest of the trip to the first market, through that stop and during the drive to the second market as well. That the man was being quiet and thoughtful didn't bother Riddick but his attitude did. Rafferty wasn't nearly as worried as a man in his situation should be. Also, the missing skimmer wasn't the last thing on the man's list of what he had wanted explained when he cut it off with that "all of it". Riddick was pretty sure that Rafferty was also aware of the missing BC. When a slight vibration from the pager at his waist announced that Rommy wanted to talk, Riddick wasn't surprised.  
  
Riddick's first thought was to make some excuse to go back to the skimmer and take the call in private. His second was that Rafferty could benefit from another lesson. Acting on this second impulse, Riddick waited until Syrus had finished with this leg of the shopping and the whole group was settled into the skimmer once more. Flipping open the scrambled channel, he used a nickname to alert Rommy that the others were listening in.  
  
"Speak to me, Blondie."  
  
Rommy's sweet-tenor chuckle and joking tone filled the skimmer.  
  
"Hiya, Dark Eyes. Just thought you'd like to know you got company. Not local, looks like mercs. You want them disappeared now or later?"  
  
The very slight tic in Rafferty's jaw muscle told Riddick everything he needed to know.  
  
"I'll get back to you."  
  
In the same move that he cut the com connection, Riddick turned and laid his shiv against Rafferty's jugular.  
  
"You lied to the Captain. I should kill you for that. Two months ago, I would have. But, today, I'll give you a choice. You and Nagia continue this with your men and Syrus and I are out of here or ... "  
  
A startled squeak interrupted him.  
  
"No! I will not stay with him. I will not trust him to save my daughter!"  
  
When Nagia's passionate explosion wasn't followed by a comment from Syrus, Riddick didn't have to look to know that the man was playing Caesar again. Riddick wasn't happy that Nagia had interfered with his play with Rafferty but he could understand why she had and, truth be told, he liked the fact that these few weeks under Jenna's care had given the woman the belief in herself that allowed her to make such a strong declaration. But that change wasn't enough to make her someone that Riddick had to worry about.  
  
On the other hand Syrus could be a serious problem. Ok, he'd supported Riddick before but he was still playing mind games with him. Riddick had enough problems dealing with Rafferty without having to watch his back in case the psychotic corkscrew decided to twist in the other direction. Well, fuck him. Riddick felt obligated to get the snarky bastard back to the Hole breathing but the options were wide open on how he did that and if that included a few non-fatal injuries – well, that would be just too damn bad. That problem settled, he focused on the main one, giving Rafferty his best snarl.  
  
"Looks like your choices just disappeared. Pull your men, all the way out, or they're cold meat and so are you."  
  
To Rafferty's credit he didn't even try to argue or offer a compromise.  
  
"I have a communicator in my robes."  
  
At Riddick's short nod, the merc carefully extracted the device and called his men off using the same codes as he had given Jenna after the raid on the compound. Not that Riddick trusted that. Flipping the channel open to Rommy again, he took precautions of his own.  
  
"Blondie, company should be leaving. Make sure they're out of the house and out of the yard. If they pull anything, ghost 'em. I'll be tagging everyone now. Can you separate the traces?"  
  
"No problem. Give me the ids as you pass them out. I've already got you marked. By the way, they got life telemetry on them. Let 'stupid' know that if yours goes sour or if his is tossed we go to plan B."  
  
The widening of Rafferty's pupils told Riddick that the man understood exactly what 'plan B' would be for him. He had no qualms about putting the now unnecessary shiv back into its sheath and beginning the process of tagging everyone. With Rafferty and Syrus he required that the trackers be hidden as his was, in their underwear.  
  
"It's usually the last piece of clothing they remove completely even for torture."  
  
With Nagia, he helped her secure it properly under her hair against her scalp. Skin contact wasn't as secure as being tucked inside a seam but necessary in this case. He didn't have to explain. The tight control that flashed behind her eyes told him that she understood how her treatment would differ from the men's if she were captured.  
  
After double-checking with Rommy that the trackers were all working the way they should, Riddick cut the com line and the group proceeded with their day as planned. There were only three interruptions to that. The first involved the disposition of some larger purchases that would have been ordered delivered to the port for the berth no longer occupied by the BC that had to be redirected to a warehouse of Rommy's. The second was another conversation with Rommy to assure Riddick that Rafferty's men had indeed withdrawn, lifted off-planet and were headed toward a hyper gate. The last was a very short break in the silence between Riddick and Rafferty initiated by the merc.  
  
"I really underestimated you, didn't I?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"And maybe the Captain, too?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
By the time the group retired to the hotel for their evening meal and to prepare for the appointment with Peta Amiran, Rafferty seemed to have reevaluated his situation. As they ate, he attempted to give Riddick the complete plan he had for the meeting. Riddick cut him short.  
  
"The outside is covered. Just tell me the plan for us on the inside."  
  
With a resigned shrug, Rafferty complied.  
  
"According to Nagia, the custom is for her to withdraw with the woman alone. However, if her off-worlder 'husband' demanded that he or a bodyguard accompany her, they might be scandalized but wouldn't question it like they would with a local. Since Syrus doesn't speak the language, I planned for you to accompany Nagia while I stayed with him."  
  
Whether it was made for personal or political reasons, Riddick didn't like Rafferty's choice.  
  
"No. I stay with Syrus." Then turning to Nagia, "Anything, even a bad feeling, you hit your panic button and scream your head off. Even if they get you, they won't keep you. You understand?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
He searched her face. There was anxiety but no real fear; just open, god- damned, fucking trust. Of course, she didn't know who he really was but still ... . What had Carolyn done to him? Put some kind of curse on him that other women could see? No ... Carolyn had marked him, all right, but this ... the witch that did this to him had sunshine sea eyes and the longest, most wicked legs he had ever had wrapped around him.  
  
Glancing at Syrus he found a twisted, amused grin that seemed to confirm this thought and made him wonder if the man could read minds. But, just in case he couldn't, Riddick decided to make sure he knew what was expected of him.  
  
"And you. You don't use your 'earring' unless I tell you to."  
  
While Rafferty and Nagia were baffled by this reference, Syrus stared at Riddick with complete understanding but a bit of rebellion. He finally broke the face-off with a disparaging sneer.  
  
"I shall certainly attempt to remain in corporeal form as long as I am in your company."  
  
It wasn't a firm agreement not to resort to suicide but Riddick knew that it was the best he was going to get. Though Nagia still seemed puzzled, Rafferty's expression indicated that he now not only understood the exchange but was pretty pissed that Riddick had known this about Syrus and he hadn't. The affronted glare he directed at Syrus received a raised eyebrow and a smirk in reply and the merc dropped his eyes and concentrated on his plate. Riddick enjoyed an evil internal chuckle over that one.  
  
The rest of the meal and the drive to the physician's residence were accomplished in silence, everyone deep in their own personal thoughts. The initial introductions and Nagia's and Rafferty's withdrawal with Peta went as expected, the woman was obviously shocked but her husband covered whatever he was thinking behind an oily grin as he quoted and accepted an outrageous fee.  
  
Then, about five minutes after the group had been separated, all hell broke loose. Nagia's scream echoed into the waiting room and, almost immediately, Riddick felt the vibration of the pager against his waist. Syrus was a bare step ahead as they charged the doorway through which Nagia and Rafferty had disappeared. Both men had one of the miniature disrupters in one hand and a blade in the other, Riddick his shiv and Syrus a wicked looking long-bladed scalpel.  
  
The room beyond the door, a seeming dead end, was empty. They had barely registered this fact when the door was slammed shut behind them. Riddick experienced an odd sour taste on his tongue. A split second later, Syrus cried out.  
  
"Gas!"  
  
Riddick knew it was probably too late but held his breath anyway as he kicked the door off its hinges and dragged a semi-conscious Syrus with him into the waiting room/office. He knew they were out of luck when he spotted Dr. Amiran slumped over his desk but still tried for the outer door. His lungs were burning from both the gas and a lack of oxygen as this door also fell beneath his heavy, booted foot. Stumbling into the courtyard, his world was already turning black when he felt the nerve tingle of the stunners. 


	31. Chapter 31 Out Of A Cell Into What

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
Chapter 31 – Out Of A Cell But Into What  
  
The cold rock wall of the dungeon had taken a lot of the heat out of Riddick's wounds but it had also sucked out more of his normal body heat than he could afford to loose. The cold iron of shackles; wrists, ankles and neck – all of the pulse points; had accelerated this. His muscles screaming as his body shivered for survival awakened him.  
  
Using what freedom the rather ample chains allowed him, he forced the autonomic spasms into more effective flexing. It hurt like hell but slowly brought his body under control. It was then that he realized that the tiny pager tucked into the band of his shorts was vibrating frantically.  
  
Periodically during their four days as Sulleman's 'guests', Riddick had activated the device's panic button and received short buzzes in return. For it to be going crazy like it was had to mean that something serious was happening. He punched the button in reply. The pager paused for several seconds and then began pulsing in a repeating pattern. It was a standard Forces distress signal.  
  
While his conscious mind was trying to figure it out, his instincts jumped to the right conclusion. Syrus! If Riddick had been awakened in the pre- stages of hypothermia, Syrus' condition couldn't be good. The tall, wiry man was tough as nails but didn't have Riddick's bulk to buffer the damage of their torture and the strength-sapping atmosphere of the cell.  
  
Looking across the cell, his sight more disturbed than augmented by the weak yellowish bulb that was their only source of light, Riddick could see that Syrus was stretched flat against the heat-leaching stones of the floor, his body sprayed rather than balled for heat retention. Pale as a ghost and slightly purple around his lips, he wasn't shivering. Shit!! If the fucking psycho thought he was getting off that easy ... !  
  
Scooting across the floor as far as his restraints would allow, Riddick could just reach Syrus' ankle. With a cursed prayer that he wasn't adding too much to the man's injuries, Riddick used this 'handle' to pull Syrus to him. Lying on his side and with a careful arrangement of their chains, he managed to spoon Syrus against him, place his head on one folded arm and wrap the other around him. It was like embracing ice – or a corpse.  
  
With more cursing at heaven, the fates and particularly Syrus, Riddick searched under the neck ring for a pulse. It was there – weak, slow and fluttery but there. He turned Syrus to face him. Using his legs and feet against Syrus', his torso against Syrus' chest and belly and his free arm and hand against Syrus' back, Riddick began a rough massage. The only injury he took pains not to impact was the broken ribs. Occasionally, he turned Syrus' face toward him, parted the cyanotic lips and forced his own hot breath into Syrus' cold lungs.  
  
After what seemed like hours, Riddick got his first sign that he wasn't wasting his depleted energy on a lost cause. As Riddick pushed another breath into him, Syrus got a hard-on and tried to taste Riddick's tonsils. As he jerked back, a weak but definitely snide laugh followed him.  
  
Okaaaaay. The boner was a natural reaction and Riddick might have been able to write off the tongue fishing as the same if it hadn't have been for that laugh. Even though Riddick had to admit that had he awakened to a busty broad giving him mouth-to-mouth he would have taken the same advantage, he still entertained himself with very interesting thoughts of just how badly he was going to hurt Syrus when the man was healed enough to really feel it.  
  
Riddick continued the body massage until the return of his shiver reflex tore a scream of agony from Syrus. After that, Riddick was too busy trying to keep the man's spasms from beating them both against the stone floor to do much of anything else. But Syrus' body temperature climbed rapidly and the spasms eased. His first recognizable word was whimpered weakly but savagely.  
  
"Bastard!!"  
  
Riddick chuckled.  
  
"Oh, yeah. I'm that all right." Then Riddick lowered his voice into the 'jail house whisper' that he and Syrus usually used for any mention of the group in case the cell was being monitored. "No way I'm going back to Jenna and tell her I let her favorite psycho freeze himself to death." Syrus tried to pull away but Riddick tightened his hold. "You're still too cold. Stay put."  
  
The distress signal was still buzzing against Riddick's waist but, as he continued body contact and massage, the pauses between repetitions grew longer and longer until the signal ceased completely. Whoever was monitoring the telemetry of Syrus' tracer seemed to have decided that he would survive.  
  
Well, that was just fucking fantastic! How long did they think he would keep on surviving if they didn't get their butts in gear and figure some way to get him out of here. Riddick was hurting but nowhere near the end of his resources. Hell, he'd cut his baby teeth on worse than this. Syrus was another matter. It was doubtful if the man could last another two days with only the cell, starvation and dehydration to contend with. With the stupid fuck Sulleman had for an inquisitioner, he definitely wouldn't survive another torture session.  
  
Riddick would have loved to send an expletive laced message to whoever was on the other end of the pager but the panic button didn't reset quickly enough to allow that. He settled for activating both his and Syrus' units in an alternating pattern for several minutes. This process was interrupted by a snigger from Syrus.  
  
"Lower, please."  
  
Riddick removed his hand from the waistband of Syrus' underwear and growled at him.  
  
"Shut up, Syrus, or I'll roll you back across the cell and let you go back to killing yourself."  
  
"No you won't." Then whispered, "You care too much for Jenna's good opinion. If it's possible, you'll keep me alive as long as that bloody buzzer keeps answering you." Then in a normal voice again, "I always wondered what personal hell would be chosen for me and now I know. It's being incarcerated for eternity with a total optimist who's also totally straight. Didn't you pick up any bad habits in prison?"  
  
"Not that one. Now, shut up!"  
  
Much to Riddick's surprise, Syrus did. The next few hours were spent in silence as Riddick followed the pattern of pulling away to flex and build body heat then returning to his position against Syrus to share it. But, he didn't go to all that effort just because of Jenna's affection for the man.  
  
During their imprisonment and torture, Riddick had developed a respect for the dark humored bastard. Not one word of whining had passed his lips. Nor had he given any thought at all to turning traitor to save himself. Riddick had also discovered that they had a lot in common in their attitudes about life and their fellow men. Hell, even Syrus' occasionally off-side remarks were delivered with a sardonic wit that Riddick could appreciate. Not that Riddick would ever admit it out loud but he had come to enjoy Syrus' company.  
  
Added to that, he'd be damned it he was going to let Sulleman destroy one more life if he could prevent it.  
  
Then, while he was in a body contact stage of the pattern, Riddick felt the pager again. It was buzzing a 'coming in' signal. This elicited a sigh of relief from Riddick but a quite different reaction from Syrus who wasn't aware of the contents of the message. He tried to jerk away. When Riddick didn't allow this, Syrus broke his silence with a whispered but intense rant.  
  
"You stupid idiot! Have you totally lost your instincts?! If they were able to do something, they would have done it before this. The only way you are going to get out of here alive is the same way you always have – by making your own escape! I'm a lost cause and Jenna needs you more than she needs me! Now stop wasting your energy trying to save me and make better use of it. Break my frigging neck. When they come to take out the garbage, they'll have to have keys to the shackles to do that. You can pretend to be too weakened to move away from me and can make them come close enough to you to get the body that you have a chance kill them and get those keys."  
  
Riddick's opinion of Syrus went up another notch. Given the circumstances they were in, it wasn't a bad plan. Now, it might be argued that Syrus' tendency toward suicide took something away from the heroic aspect of it but Syrus' unconventional 'methods' for attempting that had always made Riddick suspect that death wasn't really what the man was looking for. He suspected that Syrus was more a 'bottom' looking for a 'top' tough enough to force him into it than a potential suicide.  
  
He thought that Jenna, for all her knowledge, either hadn't delved deeply enough into the study of sexual dysfunction or, more likely, had been too personally close to the patient in Syrus' case to have caught that. After all, other professionals had put the suicide label on him and it wasn't like Syrus was doing any deeper 'couch talking' to her than he had to them – probably a lot less because of their personal connection.  
  
Riddick saw Syrus' volunteering to become a corpse to give him a chance at escape as a hell of a lot bigger favor than any other fellow inmate had ever offered him. He quickly made a whispered effort to reassure him.  
  
"Shut up and pack your bags. They just signaled that they're coming in."  
  
Syrus hissed back at him.  
  
"If you're lying to me ... "  
  
Riddick answered with the only thing that he knew would quickly convince Syrus.  
  
"If I'm lying, I'll give you a free shot at my dick."  
  
Syrus laughed as heartily as his ribs would allow and then whispered, "Evil. Very evil but convincing."  
  
It seemed like forever before Riddick heard the sound of the key unlocking the cell door. He immediately faced the door, straddling Syrus in a defensive posture. This seemed to take the four men entering by surprise. They froze. They were natives but were wearing the livery of the royal compound's main guards rather than Sulleman's personal house livery. They were also carrying two extra sets of robes and dragging the corpses of two of Sulleman's men. Deciding that they were indeed the rescue party, Riddick motioned them forward.  
  
They again showed surprise when, after they had removed the shackles, Riddick waved them away from Syrus and helped the injured man to dress before dressing himself. The surprise turned to amazed respect when Riddick picked Syrus up off of the floor and was just as adamant about carrying him himself. As he followed them through the underground labyrinth, Riddick was amused at their comments on his ability to have survived Sulleman's dungeons so well and his apparently close attachment to his companion.  
  
He was even more amused by their nervous speculation on just how dangerous he might be. It never hurt to keep people nervous.  
  
He played dumb, not revealing either his ability to understand the language or his real motives. After all he had been through keeping Syrus alive, he wasn't about to risk him suffering further injury by any manhandling during their rescue. However, his main reason for carrying Syrus himself was that it was a good way to prevent any possibility of them being separated, either accidentally or intentionally.  
  
He felt that this precaution was well justified as his sense of direction told him that they weren't being taken toward the outside but rather deeper and deeper into the compound. He didn't feel much better about it when they began to climb out of the dungeons and rose higher and higher into the upper structure of the buildings. All that meant was that whomever they were being taken to had royal rank and the higher they went the greater that rank would be. That he was going to start out being a better host than Sulleman didn't mean that he would stay that way.  
  
After all the speculation he had made concerning where things had gone sour, it didn't take Riddick long to develop a deep suspicion that he was about to meet Ackbar Mosser's employer, Sulleman's cousin, Casmir.  
  
That all things were not sweetness and light was reinforced when his escort motioned him into a room. It was rather lavishly furnished, already supplied with food, iced water and wine and he could see an attached bath through an open doorway. However, the natives didn't follow him in and they locked the door behind him. Once he had made Syrus as comfortable as possible and explored a little, he found that the room and bath were windowless and had no apparent exits other than the door he had entered.  
  
On the positive side, they were being fed and watered, it was warm, and Riddick found a good supply of bandages, salves and even some pain killers in the bathroom. He helped Syrus to strip, washed and salved his wounds and rebound his ribs. Then he got as much food and water down him as he could without making him sick before giving him a good dose of pain killer and ordering him to go to sleep.  
  
In unspoken truce, Syrus took all this TLC in silence – no objections, no complaining, no lascivious remarks - until it came to the order to sleep. At that point, he refused and stayed awake until Riddick had bathed and allowed him to give similar medical attention to any of Riddick's own injuries that he couldn't easily reach.  
  
Riddick had to exercise some heavy control to keep from letting Syrus know how uncomfortable this made him – not because of Syrus' sexual orientation but because Riddick had so little experience with anyone being concerned about his injuries. Jack's binding up his leg after they had escaped T2 was the only time he could remember since leaving Beshue.  
  
The fact that Syrus was a doctor didn't really explain it either. Any doctors Riddick had known would have let him rot before they would have suffered the pain it was causing Syrus to help him. As he sat eating and drinking, he watched Syrus sleep and puzzled on the fact that allowing others to take care of him was proving even harder to deal with than being responsible for taking care of them.  
  
As soon as he ran out of stomach room, he moved a large cabinet to block the in-swinging door and began a deep search of their new quarters. It wasn't long before he discovered a piece of the metal frame of a side table that he could break free without causing the table to look obviously damaged. Pushing the couch not occupied by Syrus aside a short distance, he began using the stone floor to whet a sharp point and edges on the metal. It wasn't good for a shiv but, while he didn't prefer stickers, he knew how to use them and any weapon was better than none.  
  
Once he was satisfied with the shape of the weapon, he used some of the bandages to wrap the hilt and hid it in his robes. Then he moved the couch back to cover the marred floor. Only then did he curl up on the couch and succumb to his body's need for sleep.  
  
The cabinet blocking the door was too light to keep anyone out for long but it would make enough noise to awaken him. 


	32. Chapter 32 The Plot Thickens

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
Chapter 32 – The Plot Thickens  
  
Riddick was awake at the first sound of a key in the lock. He was on his feet with his new sticker in his hand as the door banged against the back of the cabinet. His internal time-sense told him that he couldn't have slept for much more than an hour, just enough to let his muscles stiffen up again. As he shoved the pain to the back of his mind, he thought that whoever came through that door better be peaceable because he was definitely in a mood to kill something. As if in answer to this unspoken thought, there was no effort to force the door open and Nagia's pleasant alto came through the small space allowed by the cabinet.  
  
"First? Doctor? I have been sent to see to your conditions. Are you awake, Sirs?"  
  
Riddick relaxed slightly. At least that was one more of the rescue party alive and accounted for. Since Riddick really didn't care what happened to Rafferty, he was now free to start making plans for a quick escape straight to the BC.  
  
"Who's with you?"  
  
"The four guards who rescued you. They have been ordered to apologize for leaving you injured and unattended and not fetching me immediately."  
  
Yeah, Riddick could really believe that the guards' first order hadn't been to report to their boss! And if Nagia taking care of them had been top priority, it wouldn't have taken over two hours for her to show up.  
  
"Close the door and stand back." Riddick moved the cabinet and then returned to stand between Syrus and the door, his sticker hidden but easily accessible. "All right. Come in now."  
  
As Nagia entered the room, Riddick was disgusted. Gone was the proud woman who had come to life during her time aboard the Hole. Even the confident presence she had had at the compound was gone. Her head and face once again swathed in heavy veiling, she walked with tentative steps, her head bowed and eyes averted. When the guards following her, now dressed in a house livery rather than as compound guards, actually went to their knees in preparation for making their apology, his stomach rolled. He dropped his pretense of not knowing the language and spoke directly to the guards.  
  
"Stand up! Tell your master whatever you have to about this and I'll back you on it but brother warriors don't insult each other with such lies."  
  
This speech was a bit flowery for Riddick's taste but the culture and language of New Mecca forced that sort of thing. Still, it got his point across to the guards. They quickly stood up and the understanding looks they exchanged with him suggested that he had possibly secured some allies. Not that they would do anything to put their own asses in a sling but they might not be super pricks while guarding him. Riddick knew how to put seemingly innocent little favors to some very non-innocent uses. He turned to Nagia, still speaking New Meccan.  
  
"I'm fine but you can tend the Doctor." Then back to the guards, "Tell your master I'm ready to deal with him now."  
  
"I will be happy to convey the foreign master's message to Prince Casmir." The guard commander delivered this speech with a broad smile and a wicked gleam in his eyes. Riddick had definitely made points with him. Not only had the man told Riddick who he was dealing with but had made an unspoken promise to do as much as he could to raise Casmir's opinion of Riddick's status, something that couldn't hurt when dealing with egotistical royalty.  
  
The guards withdrew. Riddick knew that at least two of them would be standing guard outside the door but there was no sound of the door being locked. He wondered if this was their choice or Casmir's orders as he turned to Nagia again. This time he spoke to her in Standard. "Tell me all you know about what happened at Amiran's and since then."  
  
The woman was already busy selecting herbs and mixing a tonic for Syrus. She continued this while giving Riddick a very clear and concise report. Without the presence of the guards, she was more the woman he had known at the compound and on board the Hole.  
  
"It is a rather twisted affair, Sir. Ackbar Mosser had informed Prince Casmir of our mission. However, Dr. Amiran had informed Prince Sulleman of the appointment arranged for foreigners by Mosser and agreed to the attack by anesthetic gas to allow all of us to be taken by Sulleman. Peta Amiran does not share her husband's loyalty to Sulleman. She was also angered that her husband had not arranged for their children to be elsewhere during the flooding of their residence with gas. She contacted Mosser and, in exchange for a safe hiding place for herself and the children, agreed to bring Casmir's men through a hidden passage into the consultation room. Mr. Rafferty and I were taken captive and carried out by the same passage almost immediately after leaving you. Then, your blond friend tried to take us from them and he and his men were also taken. However, it seems that they have had business dealings before. His men were released and he has spent the last four days convincing Prince Casmir that it would be to his benefit to rescue you and Dr. Syrus. I believe that Prince Casmir will ask you to deliver Mira to him."  
  
There was a sudden coldness and tension in Nagia's voice as she gave this last opinion. Riddick took time to think about all this while Nagia roused Syrus long enough to pour the tonic and a second cup of water down him. Whether because of total exhaustion or the painkillers Riddick had fed him, Syrus never came fully awake and Riddick had to warn Nagia about the injury to Syrus' ribs as she began checking out the worse of his wounds and re- medicating some of them.  
  
Riddick also used the time to eat and drink a little more himself but stopped Nagia when she started to mix a second tonic. He hadn't worried about the tonic for Syrus because obviously Casmir wanted them alive at the moment. That didn't mean that the man would be above ordering Nagia to slip something into Riddick's tonic to make him easier to convince. While most of that shit didn't work too well on Riddick, it always gave him one hell of a headache. Not something he wanted added to the pain he already had.  
  
"If that's for me, don't bother. What do you think about that idea, handing Mira over to Casmir? Is he any better than Sulleman?"  
  
Riddick was surprised at the honesty of Nagia's answer.  
  
"My opinion is tainted. Prince Casmir has reminded me that he is more capable of finding and purchasing Sissua than you are."  
  
No points for Casmir on that one.  
  
"What does he want for that little favor?"  
  
"He wanted information. I told him everything I know about Sulleman and his actions against the Emir and the Imam and what happened at the compound. For the rest, I would only tell him that it was Mira's choice to accept the protection of foreigners and that I considered you the true leader of our group rather than Mr. Rafferty. He was not pleased at my refusal to answer his other questions but he did not punish me for it. I do not know what Mr. Rafferty or Mr. Logan may have told him."  
  
"Has Casmir found Sissua?"  
  
"No. Peta said that she disappeared from Sulleman's household at the same time that the Emir sent Mira and me to the Imam. Peta had assumed that she was with me. But, he did have Peta questioned and his man also required me to describe Sissua in great detail. That must mean that he is truly searching for her."  
  
Riddick couldn't share Nagia's optimism. Having some flunky question the two women was easy and didn't mean anything except that Casmir was trying to look like the 'nice guy' for now. But Riddick had never been into pulling the wings off of flies. He kept that opinion to himself and changed the subject. He had a little personal business he'd like to work into the mix.  
  
"What do you think Casmir would do if I offered to get rid of Sulleman instead?"  
  
As Riddick had expected, this caused Nagia's eyes to widen in shock. It took her several long seconds to answer him and her speech was hesitant and broken when she did. Riddick waited through the silences without interrupting her.  
  
"I ... I do not know. ... ... He was very interested in the fact that you and only two others were responsible for the taking of the compound and in your abilities. ... ... However, I think that he would still demand Mira's return even if Sulleman were dead. ... ... You must understand that there is a great deal of anger between those who would return New Mecca to strict adherence to the old ways and those who wish to retain the reforms that have been made or possibly achieve even more reform. None command the respect of all sides as the Emir does. It is doubtful that any could prevent open warfare without an alliance to the founding families."  
  
Riddick's warning bells were vibrating. Up to this point Nagia had seemed to be playing straight with him but that was an awful lot of political knowledge for any woman of New Mecca, much less one that was a slave. It also sounded like something she was repeating rather than her own thoughts.  
  
"Casmir told you to tell me that, didn't he?"  
  
"Yes." Then the woman looked directly into Riddick's eyes for the first time. "But I believe that it is the truth. The Emir still lives. That tells me that even the powerful Sulleman does not think he can rule safely without a marriage to Mira." Nagia suddenly looked very tired and far older than she should. She dropped her eyes again. "My poor Princess. In our world, these things are for men to decide. I know that your Captain will not hand her over against her will but she will tell her all this; will ask her to choose between her own happiness and her people's. This thing you call freedom is very cruel."  
  
Riddick couldn't argue with that. It probably was a lot easier to take what you were handed and blame someone else if it was crap. But, since he seemed to have been hard-wired from birth to want to choose his crap for himself, he really couldn't sympathize. Deciding that he had learned about all he could from Nagia, he gestured toward the door.  
  
"Are you staying with us or leaving?"  
  
"I am to stay if I am needed. Dr. Syrus has a bit of fever and some of his injuries are infected. I would like to stay to care for him if you will allow it?"  
  
Riddick answered her with a shrug and moved the cabinet back across the door. He then lay down on the sofa to think. He had promised Jenna to let her handle Sulleman her way but, if Casmir went for it, this was just too good a chance to pass up. Besides, he had four days of the asshole smirking and laughing while he and Syrus were tortured to add to what had been done to Imam and Jack. It was too bad that he would probably have to make a quick job of it rather than being able to invite Sulleman down to his own dungeons.  
  
How he would deal with Casmir would depend on Casmir. The first thing was to get Sissua. That was what Jenna had sent him here to do. It was also the deal that Casmir had made with Nagia. He would make good on it before Riddick would agree to any thing else.  
  
As far as Mira was concerned, he would agree to take a representative from Casmir to her to negotiate for a possible marriage contract. It might be as cruel as Nagia saw it but Mira should have the right to decide for herself. Hell, with Jenna's help, the girl might be able to work herself a good deal and be able to come back home on her own terms.  
  
If Casmir wouldn't accept that, if he were just as much an asshole as Sulleman and tried to force the issue, keep hostages for her immediate return or a completed contract, things would get ugly – Riddick ugly. If one prince could bleed so could a second.  
  
With that much decided, Riddick allowed himself to sleep. He knew it wouldn't be for long. Casmir, if he were smart, would want to make a deal, get the jump on his cousin, as soon as he could. He was right. He had barely dozed off when something a lot harder than a fist struck the bottom of the door several times.  
  
"Max! Open up."  
  
Riddick chuckled to himself as he pulled the cabinet away from the door once more. Leave it to Rommy to save his knuckles by using his steel-toed boots on the expensive carved door. This reminded Riddick just how dangerous Rommy could be with those boots and he moved well back from the door before calling out to him to come in. The casual way that the man closed the door behind him and then leaned against it, arms crossed over his chest, told Riddick that his suspicion that he might be pissed about what Riddick had gotten him into was a good one. Rommy's first words confirmed this.  
  
"Putting me in the middle of a civil war wasn't very nice, boyo. The only reason I'm still around is that I figure you as too politically stupid to know that's what you were doing. I'd better be right about that since it's what I've been telling Prince Casmir. It helped that your redheaded merc was just as clueless. You muscle types amaze me. Now, is there anything you'd like to ask me before I take you to the Prince?"  
  
Rommy needed to remember who he was dealing with.  
  
"Cut the crap, Rommy. You're still here because you made a contract and you know what happens if word gets out that you didn't keep it. Not to mention what I would do when I got out of here and found out that you hadn't done your best. And that's the only politics that people like us ever worry about. Now, you tell me what you think I need to know."  
  
The near-albino stared thoughtfully at Riddick for a moment and then moved across the room with an easy grace that reminded Riddick of a cobra. He was careful to keep the low serving table between him and Riddick as he sat down in a chair and made a show of uncorking the bottle of wine and pouring himself a glass.  
  
"You might as well sit down. This may take a while." Then he gestured at Syrus. "How's he doing?"  
  
Riddick knew from experience that Rommy would take his own sweet time and any attempts to hurry him would have the opposite effect. He sat.  
  
"He'll live if he doesn't get roughed up anymore."  
  
Rommy nodded and sipped some more of the wine. "It was his telemetry going into the cellar that forced Casmir to get you out tonight. Tomorrow evening is the beginning of a week of holy days and Sulleman always plays to the hardliners by keeping his whole household in strict seclusion. Now, he's going to be able to set up a search for you before he does that. With Mosser's involvement in this, he's already got his eye on Casmir. These rooms aren't even in Casmir's quarters but Sulleman's thugs will get around to them eventually. You're a bit of a hot potato, boyo."  
  
Riddick gave Rommy an evil sneer.  
  
"I've got a fix for that problem. What I need to know about is Casmir. Can I trust him to deal straight?"  
  
For the first time, Riddick got to see what 'worried' looked like on Rommy's face.  
  
"Hell, Max! I don't know what to tell you. All I've ever done for the kid was smuggling stuff that the local government doesn't like in the hands of private citizens: banned books and vids, the idea stuff not porn; some proscribed weapons, but nothing really heavy; and some high tech snooper gadgets. What you're talking about now is fucking serious. That girl you made off with is the founding families' crown jewel and Casmir thinks that she's the key to keeping this place from going ballistic."  
  
"What do you think?"  
  
"I think that the kid is too young to know how to fight someone twice his age and ten times as dirty like Sulleman. But he's smart. About the smartest I've ever met. He doesn't flinch or let himself be pushed. And he is stepping into his old man's shoes so maybe he's better prepared than I think. I'd say that odds are he knows what he's talking about when it comes to the girl. I do know that, now that he has a way to do it, he's dead set on getting her back and that he thinks that the only way to protect her from Sulleman is to marry her himself before anyone knows that she's back. I also get the idea that that pisses him off some. I don't think that the boy ever wanted to sit on the golden thrown himself. Just didn't want Sulleman sitting there."  
  
Rommy poured himself another glass of wine and then threw a smirk at Riddick. "Of course it could be something else. The kid doesn't have himself a hareem. Most his age have at least three or four sweet things to warm their bed. And, he seemed awful understanding when Rafferty went off all over him when your buddy there almost flat-lined. The merc hasn't been too happy with you two being locked in the same cell from the very beginning and when the guards reported that you had insisted on carrying him up here yourself, Rafferty looked like he was going to bust a blood vessel. Have I been missing any possibilities with you?"  
  
Riddick swore silently. This was getting almost as bad as some slams he had been in.  
  
"Get your mind out of the gutter, Rommy, before I put your corpse down there with it. Making sure Syrus stays alive is part of my contract."  
  
The blond gave a half-ass laugh.  
  
"Nothing lost. Rough trade never was my thing. Are you ready to see Casmir?"  
  
"If he's willing to come to me. Syrus isn't in any condition to be moved and I'm not letting him out of my sight until any deal with Casmir is set. And remember, Rommy, our contract isn't finished until my people and I are on our way safely off planet."  
  
With a short nod, Rommy rose and headed toward the door. Riddick noticed that he booted the door again before he opened it and left. When Riddick turned his attention back into the room, he found Nagia staring at him her eyes flashing with anger. Shit. He knew he'd have to ask to find out what had brassed her off. Most times he wouldn't have cared enough to make the effort but, the way things were, it might be something he should know.  
  
"What's wrong with you?"  
  
His irritation showed in the rough gravel of his voice as well as in his words. For a minute he didn't think that she was going to answer him. In the end, her anger won out. She spoke almost as roughly as he had.  
  
"The blond one, he slanders Prince Casmir!"  
  
"How?"  
  
"The Prince honors his widowed mother and his unmarried sisters. As his father before him, he will bring no concubines into their home. He will treat a wife as well. The women of his house have long been envied for the respect they are given."  
  
Damn, everything that was going on and that was what bit her in the butt?  
  
"That sounds like something you should tell Mira, not me."  
  
This caused a reaction that Riddick hadn't expected. The little of her skin that showed above the veil turned pale.  
  
"You are going to take me back with you? But what of Sissua?"  
  
"We all came together, we all go back together and Sissua is what we came for. Casmir gets her for us before he gets one inch closer to Mira."  
  
Nagia swayed back and forth and Riddick thought she might pass out before she quickly stood and rushed into the bathroom, almost slamming the door behind her – but not before he saw the tears beginning to run from her eyes. Fuck! Riddick was getting really tired of this 'Arabian Nightmare'.  
  
He suddenly realized that all he wanted to do was get this over with and get back to the clean air of the Hole and a pair of sunlight-sea eyes that he knew would never lie to him. 


	33. Chapter 33 Negotiations

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS  
  
Chapter 33 – Negotiations  
  
This time Riddick didn't bother with blocking the door. He lounged back on the couch, sitting with his feet up but on his guard. Casmir was ready to deal or Rommy wouldn't have offered to take Riddick to him. But before that happened, Riddick needed to figure out what Rommy was trying to tell him with that act he had put on. There was also the question of what Rommy was trying to find out for Casmir as well.  
  
Riddick had known from the minute that Nagia remained with them, rather than going back to report on their injuries, that the room was probably bugged, most likely both audio and video. Rommy's mention of the 'snooper' stuff had confirmed that and also that Rommy knew it. The pale smuggler was between a rock and a hard place here. He had a contract with Riddick but Casmir and whoever was aligned with him were probably a big part of his daily bread and butter. Casmir could also turn Rommy to the local authorities without risking anything himself. Now, what other messages had been sent his way.  
  
The first thing out had been a heavy warning that Casmir didn't appreciate foreign involvement in New Meccan politics, was probably totally pissed about it. But, what had the next message been? Was Casmir a kid out of his depth or was he a heavy player who had been raised to follow in his father's footsteps, fed palace intrigue with his pabulum and a match for Sulleman?  
  
Riddick decided that Rommy's opinion was probably a mix of both but Casmir wanted Riddick to believe the first, underestimate him, while the Prince himself believed the second. Riddick also decided that Rommy probably believed that last part, that the kid didn't want the top slot for himself but thought that now he didn't have any choice if he was going to keep Sulleman out of it. It would be interesting to find out how the father had died. Had that been another of Sulleman's dirty tricks?  
  
But what had that last bit of Rommy's been about? Riddick had never known which side of the street Rommy walked on because Rommy never mixed anything personal with business. He didn't even do the usual liquor, tea or coffee routine when talking a deal. The Rommy Riddick had known would have remained standing against the door and immediately began talking business. He wouldn't have gotten comfortable with a glass of wine and then asked about Syrus. The man had been leading into that personal conversation from the minute he walked away from that door. Why?  
  
Riddick's first thought was that it had nothing to do with Rommy having the hots for him and that he still didn't know which way Rommy swung. No, the whole thing was to find out what Riddick's relationship with Syrus was and it was Casmir who wanted to know. Otherwise Rommy wouldn't have dared to use the insult to Casmir to initiate it.  
  
The key to why Casmir was interested was Rommy's including Rafferty in the conversation. Add in Nagia's comment that Casmir had questioned her as to who was the true leader of the group and it was obvious that Rafferty had been trying to make a deal himself while Riddick was in that stinking cell but, probably after a long talk with Rommy and then with Nagia, Casmir was still undecided as to who to deal with. His little act was Rommy's way of proving to Casmir that Riddick was what Rommy had been claiming he was, not what Rafferty had been telling him.  
  
Now, Riddick was wondering how much more dancing around and useless conversation he was going to have to put up with before Casmir would get down to business. He really hoped that it wasn't much because he had just about reached his limit for bullshit. The more bullshit the less he would be inclined to trust Casmir to keep a deal.  
  
As if he had spoken that last thought aloud, it was answered by a firm knock on the door; knuckles this time not boots. Riddick answered it in Standard. Better to avoid the ruffles and flourishes of New Meccan for this one.  
  
"Come ahead."  
  
The man who entered wasn't someone Riddick would call a kid. Oh, he was young, probably somewhere between Ben's and Jenna's ages, but the confidence with which he carried himself and the cool intelligence behind his eyes, as they catalogued Riddick, reminded him a lot more of Jenna – with a large shot of Sen thrown in. He was slim for his two-meter height but Riddick guessed he had the same whipcord strength as Syrus. With black hair, light brown eyes, deep olive skin and sharply drawn features, Casmir was a pretty boy but one that would age into a strong looking man rather than a doughy caricature. As the man took the same chair Rommy had occupied, his eyes flicked to Nagia who had returned to sit by Syrus sometime during Riddick's silent thinking.  
  
"You will speak in front of the woman or would you prefer that she leave?"  
  
Riddick smirked. Now was the time to cut to the bottom line.  
  
"I've got nothing to hide. Have you? Besides, she's got a stake in this. What have you done to find her daughter?"  
  
Casmir showed no surprise at this sudden attack.  
  
"My agent has traced the child to the south. She is one of eleven children purchased here by the same merchant. Luckily, he wanted them to train as servants in his personal household and his business, rather than for resale. However, there were five females; three of which are old enough to be the child you seek. Without asking too many indiscrete questions, my agent cannot be sure of the child's identity without the woman's presence. As soon as your companion is improved sufficiently, I will have her sent to him."  
  
Eleven kids, all Sissua's age or younger; Riddick didn't even have to think about it. He knew exactly what Jenna would want him to do.  
  
"Have your man buy them all, boys and girls. We'll pay you for the other ten since Sissua was the only one you promised to rescue. Give the merchant a big profit on them but make sure he's scared shitless about what will happen to him if he says anything to anyone about it."  
  
This did surprise Casmir. It also made him suspicious.  
  
"Are you sure that your Captain would approve of such extravagance simply to save a little time?"  
  
Ok, Rafferty had been talking way too much.  
  
"My Captain would have my hide if I didn't take the opportunity when I had it. She hates slavers and so do I."  
  
"That's a very 'political' stance for non-political people."  
  
"It's not political, it's personal. Buying a few kids when I got the chance isn't the same as planting bombs all over your slave markets or cutting the dealers' throats. Besides, buying just Sissua could be a fast trail right back to us. Buying them all will muddy the water."  
  
Casmir's pretty mouth curved in a slight smile.  
  
"Point taken. The children will be here late this evening or tomorrow morning at the latest. There will be no need for reimbursement as long as you and your Captain are willing to take the responsibility for the training and future welfare of the children." At Riddick's nod of acceptance he continued. "Now to our business. Mr. Logan has advised me that I should speak plainly with you. Therefore, I will. You seem to have problems very similar to New Mecca's within your own people. I must assure myself that my choice between you and Mr. Rafferty is the proper one. What will you tell me to convince me that you are that one?"  
  
Riddick could imagine the kind of social kissy-face Rafferty had been playing at. Well, that wasn't his style. Nor was he going to give Casmir even more information than the merc already had.  
  
"Nothing. I'll tell you my deal, that's all. You decide who's telling you what you want to hear and who's telling you what they can deliver. You might keep in mind that if Rafferty promises you something else, he'll have to go through my Captain to do it and she's just about as bad as I am. She already took him out once at Imam's compound."  
  
Casmir raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Interesting, if true."  
  
Unexpectedly, a weak chuckled came from Syrus, obviously not as out of it as he had pretended.  
  
"She was exceptional before she met our First Officer. Now, I would describe her as 'death walking'. Rafferty is playing out of his league, physically and mentally."  
  
Casmir turned a cold eye on Syrus.  
  
"I had thought that you and that gentlemen were ... envolved?"  
  
Another, even more sardonic chuckle, "I find him entertaining. My confidence in this matter, however, must rest with my Captain and her choice of First Officer. As I said, Rafferty is quite outclassed in both cases."  
  
Syrus went silent, simply returning Casmir's hard stare. Casmir flinched first and turned his attention back to Riddick.  
  
"What then do you offer me?"  
  
Riddick was ready.  
  
"Two things. I'll get rid of your immediate problem and then I'll take your man to the Princess to negotiate for a marriage. I won't promise that she'll say yes but I'll promise that she'll listen. I'll also promise you that if she does marry you and you don't live up to your end of it, my Captain will take it as a personal insult and I'll be back to talk to you about it. "  
  
Casmir flinched slightly at this threat but he didn't look away. However, when he spoke it was of the first part of Riddick's offer.  
  
"I must make certain that I understand you clearly. You are offering to murder Prince Sulleman?"  
  
Riddick liked Casmir's cold choice of words.  
  
"Yes. I can make it a bloody show or he can just disappear, your choice. And before you ask, yeah, it's personal. I've wanted him ever since I pulled Imam out of here. Four days of torture just added to it. With your help I can get to him a lot easier and a lot quicker but you aren't starting anything that wasn't going to happen anyway. I figure that it's better for you if it happens sooner rather than later."  
  
Casmir was quietly thoughtful for a long time before speaking again.  
  
"As much as you would assure me that Sulleman's death at your hands is inevitable, it is something that I must consider carefully before I abet you in it. I do not doubt that it would be an efficient solution to present problems. Nor do I doubt that he deserves death for his crimes against my Emir. However, I am reluctant to lower myself to his level in this, to hire an assassin. For, though no money would exchange hands, that is the truth of my part of it."  
  
Riddick gave him the only answer he could.  
  
"When you need to get rid of someone like Sulleman, Prince, sending something worse to do the job is your best bet."  
  
Casmir rose.  
  
"I'll will consider your offers and speak with you again when the children have arrived. Rest without care. No harm will come to you under my roof."  
  
As Casmir approached the door, he paused before continuing through it. "You are a hard man, First Officer, and not what most would consider a good man. But, if you are worse than my cousin, it is in a manner that I find more palatable."  
  
As soon as the door closed behind Casmir, Syrus let out another chuckle causing Riddick to growl at him.  
  
"Don't say it!"  
  
"Say what? That you seem to have a remarkable ability to win the unwarranted trust of the young and idealistic? Or ... that just possibly ... Jenna was right in her analysis of you from the very beginning?"  
  
"Just what the fuck does that mean!?"  
  
"That you are the rarest of creatures, a totally honest man. You pay back in kind exactly what you receive. And you're such a juggernaut that the only way to stop you from doing that is to kill you. My God! No wonder they wanted to lock you up and throw away the key! How did you avoid the death penalty?"  
  
"Too many bleeding-heart groups demanding open trials and providing high- credit lawyers. Nobody gets the big pop. Easier and cheaper to let us rot. Makes more jobs that way, too. Keeping the citizens safe from people like me is a big business. I thought you'd know stuff like that."  
  
With a last sneer, Syrus rolled over and pulled his blankets tighter around him. "Economics bores me stiff. That's why I signed with the Institute. Goodnight." Then with another derisive snort, "You made a good call on the children but please keep in mind that I don't do babysitting. You and Jenna are going to have to find a way to sucker Sasha into that. I wish you luck."  
  
Nagia forced another nutrient tonic down Syrus before he drifted off into a truly deep sleep. Then she turned her attention to Riddick.  
  
"I do not think that you need worry about Mistress Sasha being willing to take on the responsibility of the children. She has been very kind to both Mira and me. The rest of you frighten her; make her feel unnecessary. The children will need her and that will be good for her."  
  
"You aren't staying to help with that?"  
  
"I must go where my Princess goes. I believe that she will do what is right, what she was born to do for her people."  
  
The look in Nagia's eyes reminded Riddick too much of Imam on a bad day, one of the days when listening to him had given Riddick a headache and sent him out for a long hard run. The last of those days had been the final push that had sent Riddick off planet and into his life on Darius 4. Why was it that people who had found the answers that satisfied them always thought that they should fit everybody?  
  
With a repressed growl, Riddick turned his back, curled into the couch and settled himself to sleep. He would have to warn Jenna to keep Nagia away from Mira as much as possible while the girl was considering Casmir's proposal. But that was future business. Right now, he needed to see that he was in the best shape possible for what was to come next. Casmir might be young and idealistic but, if he read him right, he was also a realist. Sulleman better enjoy this day. It was going to be his last.  
  
Riddick had the whole day and evening to recuperate from the stay in Sulleman's dungeons. The children arrived shortly before midnight. Sissua was one of them and Nagia collapsed in relief, able to do nothing more than sit, holding the child and rocking, as she sobbed out the misery of the many months of their separation. Syrus, well rested and quickly regaining his strength, belied his previous statement by commandeering two of Casmir's guards and organizing bathing, feeding and bedding for the remaining herd of frightened, exhausted children. With no knowledge of the local language, he was remarkably successful at communicating his orders to the guards and calming and reassuring the children with pantomime.  
  
Watching him with the children, how he treated them gently but with a respect most reserved for fellow adults, how he pushed them to find and use their inner strength but never beyond what they were actually capable of and how they in return strived to live up to this higher expectation, Riddick began to understand Syrus' role in Jenna's life a great deal better than he had before.  
  
As the initial chaos finally settled into his organized pattern, Syrus carefully lowered himself onto the couch beside Riddick, taking pains to protect his damaged ribs. Riddick couldn't help taking a small verbal jab at him.  
  
"I thought you didn't do babysitting?"  
  
Syrus threw him a savage look.  
  
"My control lasts only so long. I would prefer to be shut of the little buggers before they learn to run from me screaming in terror."  
  
"Somehow I can't see Jenna ever doing that."  
  
"No, she didn't. She came at me with one of my own scalpels. Luckily, I was able to avoid her strike. I found an eight year old, who not only knew the location of the femoral artery but was willing to take advantage of that knowledge to equalize her lack of height, worth the effort of more long term positive attention."  
  
At Riddick's raised eyebrow he continued. "No. She wasn't born a homicidal maniac. Before they died, her parents were planning to immigrate to a first- settlement world. They had adjusted her education to maximize her ability to survive in such a primitive environment."  
  
Suddenly, Riddick wished he had let Syrus die in the dungeon.  
  
"And you and Sen just continued where they left off, didn't you? What was it? Some experiment for the Forces to see if you could intentionally create the kind of killing machine they usually have to scourer the sewers for? Something like me but built to order? Maybe with a heavy streak of blind loyalty since that's the first thing that the streets kick out of you?"  
  
If Riddick had expected some sort of contrition or discomfort, it certainly wasn't what he got. Instead, Syrus looked wickedly pleased with himself.  
  
"First, you continue to surprise me with the depth of your perceptions. That was Max's plan. However, I decided to try a little experiment of my own; see what a nice dose of romantic chivalry, following one's personal code of honor and heart's desire against all opposition, would do to his Machiavellian plotting. He's always been such an overconfident prick. I can't wait to see his face when he finally realizes that she's going to take a pass on his 'perfect' utopian colony and keep the ships.  
  
"I really must thank you for giving her the last necessary push for that. In return, I'll give you a warning. Max isn't very pleased with your influence over her. Watch your back. I wouldn't be surprised at all if Rafferty has been instructed to see that you don't return from this little jaunt. By the way, he lied about being unable to pilot."  
  
Ok, even if his motivation was nothing more than a twisted rivalry with Sen, Syrus' scorecard was back in the positive numbers. Actually, Riddick trusted that more than he would have any claims of more noble impulses. But then, maybe Syrus had him figured out well enough to know that. It really didn't matter. Syrus was obviously on Jenna's side and fairly certain to stay there. That made him too valuable not to return him to her.  
  
"If Rafferty tries to pilot either the skimmer or the BC, don't ride with him. In fact, don't be anywhere within a mile of the skimmer and ten miles of the BC."  
  
Syrus answered this with a snort.  
  
"As if we would even be able to find either of them without you? Be assured, First. I promised Jenna to bring you back and I always try my best to keep my promises to her. It's the one weak point in my armor of indifference." Then, as Casmir walked through the door carrying Riddick's shiv-sheath belt, "Well, it looks like you are going to be busy tonight. Do take care and give Sulleman a little extra attention for me." 


	34. Chapter 34 A Kidnapping

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 34 – A Kidnapping

Casmir held Riddick's belt shiv up as he handed it to him.

"This was taken from one of the men guarding your cell. The nature of the weapon led my man to believe that it might be yours and that you would appreciate its return. It shows a great level of craftsmanship. I am sure that it will serve you better than the more hastily constructed one you now carry."

Riddick matched Casmir's cool as he accepted the belt and shiv from him, buckled it on under the outer layers of his robes then openly removed the make-shift sticker from the slashes he had made in the inner robe and slid it into a more secure position under the heavy belt.

"Depends. Do you want this bloody or clean?"

If Casmir was surprised by Riddick's lack of reaction to his being aware of the existence of the sticker, he didn't show it. Syrus awarded the points for cool all the way around with a snide chuckle as he moved off to sit by Nagia and give the other two men at least a semblance of privacy. This wasn't enough for Casmir. Rather than replying, he motioned Riddick to follow as he turned and exited the apartment. Two doors down the hall, he led Riddick into a second apartment and motioned toward a pile of luggage sitting in the middle of it. It was Syrus' and Riddick's part of the luggage that had been brought from the BC to the hotel suite.

"If this thing is to be done, it should be done tonight. You will need no disguise but the way into Sulleman's quarters was part of the defenses of the original fortress that the compound was built over and around and is somewhat physically strenuous. I presume that you have brought proper garments with you. If not, I will do my best to supply whatever you need. If it is acceptable, I will discuss the details while you dress."

Riddick gave him a quick nod and began digging through his part of the baggage. Luckily, Jenna had insisted that their luggage match their cover story and he had plenty to choose from, including a second pair of tough but comfortable boots. Padding around bare-assed or in his shorts didn't make Riddick feel half as vulnerable as being barefoot did. You could run just fine naked or in stolen stuff but no shoes or bad fitting shoes could cripple you and get you caught quick. As he replaced the flowing robes Casmir's men had given him with a black "T" and trousers, buckled his weapons on again and tucked the pants into his boots, Casmir presented him with a possibility for Sulleman's disposal.

"It would be most demoralizing for the opposition if Sulleman were to be found butchered; bloody, as you designate it. However, that would require some evidence that directed their inquiries away from my associates and myself. The body of a mercenary known to have had dealings with Sulleman, perhaps in a staged scene of mutually fatal combat with one of Sulleman's private guards, would serve well for that. It might even be assumed that it was a matter of a personal dispute between Sulleman and this mercenary."

Oh, fuck! That idea should be so damned tempting but it did nothing but turn Riddick's stomach. It wasn't killing Rafferty in cold blood that bothered him. That would simplify things for Jenna, even if he was pretty sure that she might consider it a little premature. It was using the merc as the patsy for Sulleman's murder that lifted Riddick's hackles. He had always turned down contracts of that sort no matter how much they paid. It would have been like doing business with the bastards who send him to slam in the first place. Riddick started making plans to ditch Casmir's envoy to Mira somewhere in the badlands before they reached the BC.

"Think of something else." Then to cover his own emotional reaction, "If he doesn't get any stupider than he already has, Rafferty stays alive until my Captain says otherwise. She may still have some use for him."

"Would it change your mind if I were to tell you that this was not my invention; that a similar scenario, with you as the off-world distracting element, was his suggestion?"

After Syrus' warning, Riddick wasn't surprised at this revelation, at least not the part about Rafferty. What he was having trouble figuring out was what Casmir was up to. What was he trying to learn about Riddick or manipulate Riddick into doing by ratting out Rafferty?

Riddick was getting tired of God's cosmic joke of having incorporated spider genes into the mentality of most of the human race. Casmir's motives aside, there was one thing he was certain of. No matter what he personally wanted to do to Rafferty, it was now more important than ever to Jenna to find out what else he and Sen might have been up to. The excuse that Riddick had given Casmir before now became the only thing that was keeping Rafferty alive.

"Nope. Same answer as before. Rafferty goes back with me alive. But, if you want me to do this job, I'm not going to be worrying about what he's up to behind my back. He gets chained to a wall until I take him out of here. Now, why don't you cut the bullshit and tell me how you really want this done?"

Casmir's answering smile was wry but the first real one Riddick had seen from the young prince.

"I want Sulleman alive and able to talk. Because of your admitted desire to kill him, I could not be certain that you would agree to that. By revealing Rafferty's treachery, I have discovered that you do have the capacity to put aside your natural inclinations for a greater purpose. Now, I would know if you can do the same for my purposes as you would for your own?"

Shit! Between Jenna and Prince Casmir, Riddick's shiv was going to stay one very thirsty lady. The hell it was!

"Ok, you get him alive to talk but I get him dead before I lift off planet or you can kiss any chance to talk to Mira good-bye. The kid ain't setting one foot on this rock unless I ghost him because that's the only way I can be sure he'll stay ghosted and out of her life."

Now Casmir looked worried.

"But he must be taken elsewhere, to a place that you and your party would not be welcome. I have no dungeon. I employ no interrogators."

For the first time in this whole fucked up mess, Riddick felt like things were finally breaking his way. The image of Jenna working on G came to his mind with memories of Syrus' comments to Sulleman's torturer mixed with it. But, even if the doctor couldn't match actions to words, not something Riddick really doubted, Riddick had his own ways; not so sophisticated and a lot more bloody but just as effective.

"You know what questions he needs to answer?"

"Yes"

"Then you supply a soundproofed room and I'll take care of the rest. Now, tell me how to get to him."

Riddick knew the grin on his face was one of his really nasty ones by the way Casmir drew back from him. But it only took a second for the young man to gather his courage. Rising and stripping off his own outer robe to reveal black trousers and shirt very similar to Riddick's own and a dark-metal, sheathed dagger belted at his waist, he motioned to Riddick to follow him once more.

"I will accompany you. The passages are quite complicated and, also, Sulleman will most certainly have a companion who will need to be abducted as well. Though I am forced to admit that I am no physical match for Sulleman, I will be able to deal with his bed-warmer. Male or female, he prefers them young and helpless."

"What about his guards? How many and where?"

"He should have none in his bedchamber, only beyond in the atrium. If you can prevent him from crying out, we shouldn't have to deal with them. I would prefer that. The more mysterious his disappearance the better it would serve my purpose. If he is able to summon them, there will be four."

Riddick nodded his agreement with the wisdom of not involving Sulleman's guards and Casmir turned toward the outer door. Before he could reach it, Riddick stopped him with a final question.

"What about Rafferty?"

Again he was met with that wry, but real, smile.

"Though not chained to a wall, he has been incapacitated since his treacherous proposal convinced me that I would not be making any agreement with him no matter the outcome of our discussion. Also, to be truthful, you were always my first choice. Mr. Rafferty lacks your exceptional physical attributes. I do not believe he could deal with taking Sulleman alive alone and would require the participation of several of my household guard to aid him. You, however, should have no difficulty. The fewer involved in such business the safer it is done."

As Riddick followed Casmir through the maze of corridors and then into even more twisted passages between the walls of the massive rock fortress, he was occupied with that last comment. The truth was that it was a lot harder to take someone alive than to kill. It wasn't something that he had much experience with, either. Added to that, from what he'd seen of Sulleman in the dungeons, the man looked powerfully built, probably taller than Riddick and, under those robes, he had seemed close to the same size. But, Riddick had a gut feeling that there was no way life in the royal compound could hone a man like slam and the streets did. Still, his having to keep Sulleman alive while the bastard would be doing his best to kill him was a definite disadvantage. Especially since Riddick's instincts would be screaming at him to rip the man's head off the second he got his hands on him. This was going to be a tough contract.

Then it got tougher. The labyrinth of narrow passages connected by steep, narrow stairs gave way to narrow passages connected by straight shafts with climbing chains that were lowered from and withdrawn into their ceilings by hidden hand-winches. Casmir hadn't been kidding when he called it strenuous and it was going to be even worse bringing two trussed-up bodies out.

The combined light of the half shuttered lanterns, that Casmir had provided to hang from their belts, was like the weak bulb in the dungeon cell, too much light but not enough. Riddick was overjoyed when Casmir, communicating by sign that these passages contained spy holes that might allow the light to be seen by anyone occupying the rooms beyond, signaled that they had to be doused for the final stage of the trek. While he couldn't see the path in the complete darkness, Riddick had no trouble distinguishing Casmir's living flesh from the cold stone and could have followed him easily. But he allowed his hand to be placed on the other man's shoulder as if he needed to be guided. No sense in giving away the secret of his shine if it wasn't necessary.

For his part, Casmir walked with the sure stride of someone following a path he had often trod. It made Riddick wonder if Casmir had provided the lanterns just for his benefit and could have made the whole journey in darkness if he had been by himself. But maybe not, since there were only passages and none of the chain shafts to negotiate now. Then again, all of the chains had been within easy reach of the cross passages, a simple arm sweep would be enough to snag them on the return trip. With enough practice and guts it wasn't impossible. It was also something that Riddick would have made sure he could do if he had been in Casmir's situation.

Riddick's opinion of Casmir had risen sufficiently by this point that he thought it was a good possibility. If Riddick was right, if Casmir had been as thorough about this as he seemed to be in everything else, if he could negotiate the passages without the light of the lanterns, Riddick would have no problem following his lead and keeping track of a totally blind Sulleman. That would make the trek back out a lot easier. Sulleman could be forced to use his own muscle rather than being carried and the worse that could happen was Sulleman dropping himself down a shaft and breaking something.

As far as Riddick was concerned, even though the thought of repaying Sulleman in kind for the torture sessions and for Imam's suffering was very appealing, it could be the bastard's neck and be done with it.

This line of thought was interrupted as Casmir halted, removed a small brick-shaped stone from the wall, and pressed his eyes to what must surely be a set of the spy holes he had referred to earlier. As he leaned back, rubbed his eyes and then peered through the wall again, Riddick realized that he was having problems seeing the room beyond. Pulling him back, Riddick let him get a good look at his shined eyes before nudging him aside and taking the spy holes himself. He was amused at the smothered gasp this elicited from the young prince. Jenna had sure been right on the money about keeping the full effect of the silver shine in the dark. The small risk of detection that went with it was more than justified by its use as a psychological weapon.

Though only a small amount of light from a crescent moon penetrated the room from a balcony window, Riddick could see rather well. At first, he thought that they had lucked out. There seemed to be only one body occupying the huge bed. Sulleman was sprawled on his back and looked to be deeply asleep. Damn, the son-of-a-bitch must be having a good time in his dreams if the vicious smile on his lips was anything to judge by.

Then a small movement drew Riddick's eyes to a delicate ankle and foot lying on the floor, extended slightly beyond the end of the bed on the far side. Either Sulleman had relegated this night's bed-warmer to the carpet after satisfying himself or the owner of the foot had chosen to escape at least that far after Sulleman fell asleep. From the size and shape of the foot, Riddick decided that the poor unfortunate was either a young boy or a woman.

Riddick pulled back and waited until Casmir had replaced the brick before putting his lips against the young man's ear and whispering the locations of their intended victims and telling Casmir that he would lead him to his before taking on Sulleman. After nodding his agreement, Casmir located a hidden lever and the section of the wall containing the spy holes pivoted silently, opening an entrance into the room. Steps well muffled by the deep carpet, Riddick and Casmir approached the bed.

The body sleeping on the carpet was that of a young woman, probably about the same age as Mira. The very brief, shift-like garment she wore didn't come close to covering the ugly bruising on her thighs, upper chest and arms. It seemed that Sulleman was rough trade all the way around. Riddick had seen worse but it seem that Casmir hadn't. A mix of disgust and sympathy was showing plainly on his face. After a short moment, resigned determination replaced them and he gave Riddick a tight nod. At Casmir's signal that he was ready to deal with her, Riddick jumped Sulleman.

He hit the man like a ton of bricks, trapping his arms with his knees and knocking the breath from him at the same time. The second the exhale ended and Sulleman tried to suck in new air, Riddick clamped a hand over his mouth and nose, pinning his head to the bed as he cut off any air to his lungs. Using the thumb of his other hand to press against the carotid artery, Riddick cut off the blood to the man's brain as well. It was doubtful if Sulleman ever awakened completely before he passed out from this double assault. With great reluctance, Riddick released his grip and allowed the man's tortured lungs to begin sucking in air but allowed only a partial return of the blood to his brain, enough to prevent brain damage but not allow a return to consciousness too quickly.

Riddick turned to check on Casmir's progress to find that he had indeed captured the girl. However, though he was smothering any outcry with a hand held tightly over her mouth and had her lifted completely off the floor with his other arm, she was still fighting him like a small but vicious cat. It was obvious that Casmir was trying to keep from hurting her and she was using that to her best advantage in her attempt to escape him. Hoisting the unconscious Sulleman over his shoulder, Riddick bent close to her and whispered.

"Come with us quietly or I'll kill you right now!"

Whether it was his tone, his words or the glowing moons of his eyes, the girl immediately ceased her struggling and, after a glance at Sulleman draped across his shoulder, nodded her acceptance. Riddick quickly turned and carried Sulleman into the hidden passage. Casmir followed almost as quickly. Riddick was pleased to see that he had kept a firm grip on one of the woman's arms and his muffling hand over her mouth and that he released her arm for only a brief second to flip the lever and close the door to the passage behind them. So far, except for his too gentle handling of the woman in the first place, Casmir was proving to be very capable. Now, if he was only able to make the whole trek back without using the lanterns. With that thought, Riddick whispered to Casmir.

"Can you travel the passages all the way out without the lanterns?"

The answering voice was puzzled.

"Yes. But how will you follow me when we reach the chains?"

"I don't have to touch you. I can see you just fine. You can take the woman down the chains first then step away from them so Sulleman can't find you. I'll make him climb down next and be right on top of him."

"It would be much easier than carrying him but he is certain to try to escape. Are you sure that you can control him?"

"Yes. Now, before he wakes up, take us back to where I can have a little talk with him without being worried about being heard."

By the time they reach the safe point, Sulleman was beginning to stir and moan. Riddick set him on the floor of the passage, lit his lantern, set it on the floor beside Sulleman and motioned Casmir to go further down the passage into the dark where Sulleman couldn't see him or the woman. Riddick then backed away into the dark on the other side of the man and waited for him to become completely conscious.

Riddick studied Sulleman's breechcloth clad body. He had been right about the man's physical state. He was tall and well built but there was the aura of softness of someone who keeps himself in shape for vanity rather than utility. His muscles were shaped but not hardened. There were also signs that the man was beginning to succumb to the dissipation of too rich food and possibly other 'sins' as he aged. What strength he had wouldn't have any staying power and his pain threshold would be nil compared to Riddick's. When the man tried to rise, Riddick gave him a semi-gentle boot to the head and retreated into the darkness once more.

"Stay on the floor or the next kick will take your head off."

Sulleman stayed curled on the floor holding his head but rather quickly his eyes began darting around trying to locate the source of the voice.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

"Some people want to have a talk with you. They're paying me good money to see that you make it to the meeting."

As he straightened himself to lean against the wall once more, Sulleman's answer was quick and predictable.

"I'll pay you more!"

"Well, that might work except for one thing."

Riddick stepped into the light. Sulleman's reaction was instantaneous. He cowered. Obviously, Riddick's imperviousness to his torture sessions had impressed Sulleman.

"Good. You remember me. You'll understand what I'm going to tell you next. I'd like nothing better than to pay you back for my little stay in your dungeons but the money gets real short if I don't deliver you breathing. If you walk out of here on your own power and don't give me any trouble, I'll go for the money. If you don't, if you even blink wrong at me, I'll kill you before you can blink again and I'll enjoy doing it."

To add emphasis, Riddick pulled his shiv from its sheath and slowly ran his thumb lightly along the edge then showed Sulleman the thin line of blood that welled up on it.

"If you need any more convincing," Riddick reached down, picked up the lantern and returned it to his belt. Then, he turned it off. "I can still see you."

To prove this, Riddick touched the point of his shiv against Sulleman's forehead right between his eyes. Sulleman stared into Riddick's eyes and whimpered.

"A daemon, you are a daemon."

"Yeah, straight from the lowest pit of hell. Now, stand up and walk to your right along the wall, I'll tell you where to go from there. By the way, when I tell you to stop, you better be listening or you walk off into empty air and I lose money."

As Riddick watched Sulleman feel his way along the walls, Casmir had taken his cue and was leading the woman further down the passage. However, the pace he was setting was slower than it had been. Riddick surmised that he was keeping track of those following him by the sounds of Sulleman's anxiety induced panting and adjusting his pace so as to stay within Riddick's range of vision.

This worked out well through the twisting passages until they reached the first of the chain shafts. Casmir lowered the chain and, with the woman clinging to his back, descended to the next level with no problem. But, when Riddick tried handing the chain to Sulleman, he balked completely. His panting turned to agonized gasping and he literally clung to Riddick, pleading.

"I can't! In Allah's name have mercy! The darkness! Falling! I can't! No more! Dear Allah, no more!"

Riddick could feel the man's heart beating ninety-to-nothing against the hand Riddick had wrapped around his throat to hold him off. Fucking wonderful! The asshole was having a panic attack! Riddick had begun to suspect that the man was dealing with more than his fear of Riddick by the way he had continued to cling so tightly to the walls rather than being able to adjust to the situation and relax a little as the woman had. But he hadn't thought the man would go over the edge like this. Riddick did the only thing he could think of. He flipped on his lantern. Sulleman immediately let go of him and clutched at the lantern, kneeling to hold the light close against his face.

If it had been anyone but Sulleman, Riddick might have felt a little sympathy at the agonized fear he saw on the man's face but, in Riddick's opinion, people like Sulleman, who built their lives on using the fears and weakness of others and reveling in that power and that suffering, had no right to anything else in return. Riddick wasn't a hypocrite about this. He applied the same rules to himself, never expecting and certainly never asking for 'mercy'. It was only the necessity of getting the man through the passages the easiest way possible that prompted Riddick to unsnap the belt strap of the lantern and fasten it around Sulleman's wrist.

"Now, get down that chain and turn the lantern off the minute you hit the bottom or you'll do all the rest in the dark if I have to wrap the chain around your neck and lower you down before you choke to death."

This method worked. Sulleman might have hesitated each time he had to turn the lantern off but he did it. In fact, it worked so well, Sulleman showing open gratitude for the reprieves from the darkness, that Riddick allowed him to continue using the lantern to negotiate the stairs after they had left the chain shaft section. As useful as this was to control him, it only continued to increase Riddick's disgust for the man. After what Sulleman had done to Imam, Jack, Mira, Nagia, Sissua and only God knew how many others, not to mention that he had probably intended to leave Riddick and Syrus to die slowly in that stinking cell, Riddick would rather have taken the lantern away from him and left him wandering in the passages until he died, insane and screaming.

Riddick also knew that the man's gratitude and good behavior would last only as long as the darkness did. He was prepared for it when, the second Casmir opened the door between the passages and the well-lit hallway of his quarters, Sulleman attempted to charge the younger man. Riddick was in motion the second the man's muscles tensed in preparation and, before he could take his second step in Casmir's direction, slammed a fist into his right kidney with such force that the man bounced off of the opposite wall of the passage and hit the floor retching bile.

Casmir had lived up to Riddick's expectations. He, too, had prepared for the possibility of Sulleman's attack. The woman had been shoved into the hall and Casmir was facing Riddick and the retching Sulleman with his dagger drawn. With a sneer of approval, Riddick motioned him to continue out of the passage and then turned his attention back to Sulleman. Allowing the man only the briefest time to recover, Riddick growled at him.

"Get up!"

"I.... I can't." was the gasped reply.

"Then crawl! But get moving!"

With a nudge from the toe of Riddick's boot, Sulleman managed to struggle to his hands and knees and crawl out into the hall. When it became apparent that Riddick was going to make him continue on his own power, he managed to get to his feet and stagger slowly after Casmir. The woman, who had walked obediently at Casmir's side from the first chain shaft, would occasionally sneak a look over her shoulder. From her expression, while she was still apprehensive about her own position, she was enjoying her master's humiliation a great deal.

She even managed a tentative smile and a seductive blinking of her eyes for Riddick. The offer should have, would have interested Riddick ... before he met Jenna. That bothered Riddick until he decided it had nothing to do with any thought of 'faithfulness' but was simply that the woman would be less than satisfying in comparison. Then, it occurred to him that idea should bother him even more. He gave the woman the same wicked leer that he had given Jenna in the alley behind G's. Where Jenna had turned wide-eyed and blushing but definitely hot and bothered, this woman paled and moved so close to the protective presence of Casmir that she almost trod on his heels.

Riddick shook his head. This could seriously limit his future prospects for casual fun. He hadn't had this reaction even when he was with Beshue. Maybe it had something to do with his not being seventeen any more, having had a hell of a lot more casual fun since and not being so hungry for it. Or ... No! He wasn't going there. After a lifetime of experience on just what that kind of emotional crap did to people, he fucking wasn't going there!

'Oh, yeah, like you got any fucking choice!' he had to admit to himself. 'You're already there, up to your neck there, you idiot. This just isn't the time to be thinking about it.'

He turned his attention back to Sulleman only to catch the man watching him out of the corner of his eye. The mood Riddick was in now, he really hoped the man made a bad move. Being able to beat the shit out of someone would go a long way to keep his mind off of things he didn't want to think about.

Sulleman must have read something of this in Riddick's face. He quickly focused his eyes on the floor of the hall and kept them there for the rest of the trek to the room Casmir had selected for the interrogation. However, once there and having gotten a good enough look at Casmir to realize who he was, a great deal of Sulleman's courage and confidence returned. He actually managed an air of dignity and superiority standing there in his skivvies. He addressed the younger man with a silky, patronizing tone.

"Ah, so my scholarly little cousin is behind this. You have grown, Casmir, but not matured. That is not your fault, of course. You have but listened to the same unwise council as your father. I had thought you wiser than that, had hoped the animosity between our houses was a thing of the past. This farce was totally unnecessary. I would have given you audience any time you requested it. I would have welcomed it. Now, provide me robes and invite me to your table. I will forget this unpleasantness and we will discuss the matters that disturb you in the proper manner for two princes to converse."

Casmir stared at Sulleman with hard eyes but when he spoke it was to Riddick.

"What do you require to continue this?"

"Syrus. And tell him to bring his med-bag."

As Casmir abruptly turned and left the room, dragging the woman behind him, Sulleman made one last attempt.

"Cousin! You are your father's son. You haven't the stomach for blood nor the strength needed for this game. Release me now or I will erase your house to the last suckling babe!"

Casmir spun back toward Sulleman, his face livid with hatred.

"Have you defiled so many that you do not remember a princess of a royal house? Or did you think that she would not have the courage to tell her husband and later her son of what you had done to her? You should pray to Allah that I do not have my 'father's' blood!"

Then, Casmir was gone and Sulleman was backed against the far wall of the room, his eyes wide with realization and fear.


	35. Chapter 35 Two Interrogations

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 35 – Two Interrogations

It was bad. Even for someone as hardened as Riddick, it was bad. Syrus used much the same nerve centered technique that Jenna had used on G but, where she had used a pencil and a paperweight and went for maximum effect, Syrus used needles, electricity and laser scalpels with a few drugs added in to increase sensitivity and wove a subtle concerto of pain.

Sulleman was also a lot tougher than G and had a great many more secrets to be pried out of him. But most damning was the fact that the man couldn't accept the reality, the finality, of his situation. With blind confidence in the invulnerability that had surrounded him his entire life, he continued to threaten, offer bribes and false information and attempt other manipulations far beyond the point of reason. Only once he was totally broken did the truth that would end his torture finally begin to pour from him. It took a long time for that to happen.

And there was very little blood. Maybe that was the worst part of it as far as Riddick was concerned. Sulleman was reduced to a whimpering, quivering, broken animal yet there was hardly a mark on him to testify to the agony he had suffered. He looked obscenely unharmed.

Riddick, not really interested in the fine details of Sulleman's crimes after he made sure that Rafferty had nothing to do with the betrayal of the rescue party to him, concentrated on studying the other three participants. Rafferty was the easiest to categorize.

Riddick had made sure that the merc was present to witness the interrogation. Call it an object lesson. He had some questions for the merc to answer and, while he wasn't sure that Syrus would agree to actually torture the redhead after sharing his bed with him, threat of it might be enough to convince the merc to answer those questions. If it wasn't, Riddick could always fall back on his own, less civilized skills.

It didn't take long for Riddick to get Rafferty's measure. The man might have been Forces but he had never been Spec-Ops. He didn't have the stomach for it. He was on his knees clinging to the toilet and past anything but dry heaves long before Sulleman broke. As Riddick forced him back to watch the rest of it, he was certain that the merc wouldn't need any further persuasion. What really amused Riddick was the look of horrified fascination that suffused Rafferty's face every time he looked at his erstwhile lover, Syrus. It was a perfect study in reality shock.

While Syrus remained outwardly cold and clinical throughout the process, it was obvious that he was enjoying his work. He also seemed to be taking pleasure in demonstrating to Sulleman how accurate he had been in his negative critique of Sulleman's own interrogator. But he didn't get a hard-on and that made all the difference as far as Riddick was concerned. The man was a sociopath when it came to anyone but Jenna but he wasn't a perv. He would have experienced the same pride and satisfaction from his expertise in a life-saving operation as he was from this torture.

As Riddick watched the doctor analyze Sulleman's reactions and adjust his techniques, he wouldn't have been surprised if the man had pulled out a padd and started making notes for a definitive paper on the process. But Riddick could understand that. He was making his own mental notes of the locations of the various nerve points and the techniques Syrus was using to manipulate them. While he would probably never need more than Jenna's more primitive method, it didn't hurt to study a master at work when you got the chance.

Casmir, however, was the main focus of Riddick's attention. It had been obvious that he hadn't planned on being the one to interrogate Sulleman and Riddick was very interested in how he would handle that, particularly after his revelation of his closer than 'cousin' blood tie to Sulleman. So far Riddick was leaning toward the opinion that Casmir wouldn't be a bad match for Mira. But if there was any possibility that he could become a carbon copy of Sulleman, that opinion would change. On the other side of the coin, it wouldn't set well with Riddick if the young prince didn't have the guts to do what he had been willing to order others to do.

Casmir proved that he was more the son of the man who raised him rather than the one who sired him. He was sickened by the torture. But he did what had to be done; did his part in helping to subdue Sulleman and strap him across the low, backless settee; found the raw courage to stand at his head, ask the necessary questions and even lean close to hear muffled replies; signaled for further torture when unsatisfied with those answers. However, there was nothing but revulsion and, finally, even pity in his eyes. The full, sensuous lips became thin, tight lines and his face a pale mask. It was with exhaustion and relief that, when it was over, he spoke to Riddick as he left the room.

"I need no more information from him. As I have agreed, he is now yours."

As far as Riddick was concerned the prince had more than earned the right to have his marriage proposal delivered to Mira. If the girl wanted to return to her life on New Mecca, she couldn't make a better choice for a husband/protector. But that was future business. Right now, Riddick had what was left of Sulleman to deal with.

Payback had been collected in full. Riddick made it a mercy killing. Unstrapping Sulleman, he dragged him to the bath, threw him face down in the tub and slit his throat. The man died almost before he realized what was happening. As Riddick sat back on his heels waiting for the body to drain out, he cleaned his shiv and considered the problem of disposing of it. Lugging it through the passages of the compound didn't appeal to him anymore than it had when it was alive. It was Syrus who came to the rescue, so to speak.

"Nagia was singing the praises of the royal compound to me. It seems that the latest improvement was to replace the old cesspit with a modern, totally automated disintegrator/recycler. All sewer pipes and trash disposal chutes go directly to it. No servants involved who might question what was being disposed of. It shouldn't take long to cut him into pieces small enough to fit down the chute over there. The thing will probably make fertilizer for the rose beds out of him since Muslims don't raise pigs and the only dogs I've seen in the courtyard are the pampered pet variety. Bone meal is quite good for gardens."

Overhearing this, Rafferty started retching again. It was nothing but strangled dry-heaves. Ignoring it, Riddick started butchering the corpse, using the detachable spray head on the tub to wash it down as he went and keep the mess to a minimum. Rafferty's heaves became even worse. More aggravating to Riddick, Syrus started critiquing his work. His comments were mostly complimentary but Riddick just wasn't used to having company in such situations. Finally, Riddick turned and snarled at him.

"This would go a lot faster if you would untie the idiot, give him something to keep him from up-chucking his asshole and the two of you started putting pieces down the chute!"

With a nasty chuckle, Syrus turned and walked away into the main chamber of the apartment. Obviously he had been being intentionally irritating. Riddick heard a strangled 'No!' from Rafferty and a bit more muffled conversation between the two men and then Syrus returned to the bath alone. Riddick couldn't resist.

"He wouldn't let you give him any meds, would he? Looks like your love life just went to shit."

The light joking tone of Syrus' reply was honest, not forced.

"Alas, easily seduced, easily disillusioned. I believe that he will be quite relieved to return to his Charlie ..." the tone turned more serious, "... if you let him live to do so."

Riddick noted that Syrus had pitched his voice so that Rafferty would have no trouble overhearing them. Ok, Syrus wanted the merc to know exactly where he stood. Well, Riddick wanted to know exactly where Syrus stood.

"That depends on how quick he is to give up Sen and his plans. You got any objection to that?"

Syrus smirked at him.

"Surely you would have learned by now that what little loyalty my twisted psyche is able to produce all belongs to Jenna. I was inquiring as to your intentions after we question him."

"That depends on the answers we get."

Syrus gave a thoughtful nod and then proceeded to instruct Riddick on an easier way to separate the pelvic region from the rest of the torso and crack the ribs away from the spine and split the breastbone to halve the upper section. Riddick decided that if he had had teachers as competent in both knowledge and the ability to communicate it as Syrus he would have had a lot more interest in formal education. Then again, the uselessness of the information most governments deemed fit to dispense to the common population probably had a lot to do with that disinterest as well. Corpse Disposal 101 just hadn't been on the curriculum.

Syrus did attempt to help with the disposal of the corpse down the trash chute but it was apparent to Riddick that his ribs weren't up to it after the strain of the interrogation. He motioned him out of the bath with orders to pop some more pain meds and rest. Syrus might have followed the order to medicate himself but he didn't the one to rest. While Riddick finished dumping the corpse, rinsed down the chute and policed the bath for any remaining evidence, Syrus did the same for the main room and cleaned his instruments. He only sat down and relaxed on the settee where Rafferty was seated when Riddick approached the merc to question him.

It was an easy sell. One gesture toward the settee where Sulleman had been strapped down was all it took for the merc to start a voluntary core dump.

"You heard. I had nothing to do with Sulleman joining the party. My contract with Sen was to protect Syrus, get the child if possible and ... to get rid of you, Mr. Riddick." A hiss from Riddick caused him to pause for a second before continuing. "Oh, yeah, he knows who you are. He told me about the girl's teenage crush on you. How you're using it to twist her around until she doesn't know which way is up, turn her against the only family she has ever known. Look, my part of the contract is just what I told her, just what her own people want; a chance for me and my people on a new world where what we are is an advantage and not a curse. Without her, without the ships that isn't possible. But you'll use her to ... what? ... Pirate the ships? Sell us out to the highest bidder? Because somebody like you can't understand that kind of dream! All you can see is the money!"

Any reply Riddick might have made was cut off as Rafferty turned on Syrus.

"But I can't understand you! Why are you siding with this scum?! What you did to Sulleman ... well maybe I can understand that after what he did to you in his dungeons ... but you've backed Riddick against me from the beginning. Why? Why would you turn against Sen and the rest of the group?"

Syrus answered him with a derisive snort.

"Oh, my poor beauty. You have no idea of the snake pit you have fallen into."

Syrus stroked a finger down Rafferty's jaw. When the man recoiled from his touch, he fixed him with a snide smile and continued speaking in his most condescending drawl.

"Max has played you like a violin, Lover. No one in the group is looking for what you are. We already had our chosen society and were all quite happy until our new masters demanded the right to limit our research to their agendas in return for our care and feeding. For us the colony will be just the same as the Institute with the exception that Emperor Max the First, unlike our recent keepers, will have the good sense not to interfere with the one thing that matters to us, our work."

The merc was still reeling from the events of the past few hours but he managed to catch the important part of what Syrus had said.

"Emperor Max?"

"Oh, yes. Our dear Max definitely has delusions of godhood. I believe the common term is 'control freak'. Why do you think Jenna's natural evolution toward independence has him panting for Riddick's blood? She is his heir apparent, his royal consort of the spirit. He has been grooming her for that position since the first day she arrived at the Institute. The thought that she would be able to escape his control, begin to think for herself on her own volition, is really too embarrassing for him to admit therefore it must be the fault of Riddick's evil influence.

"The truth is that Jenna wants the ships for herself. She wants the freedom they offer, not a colony clone of the Institute. Riddick hasn't talked her into anything she wouldn't have eventually come to on her own. However, of more importance to you, would you care to know the use Max has for you and your people?"

Rafferty still looked punch drunk but seemed to be gathering a little hope from the fact that he was being talked to, not just questioned.

"What?"

"First, as the worker drones in his perfect little utopian hive. You and yours will do all the mundane little daily tasks necessary for survival that we of the group would never be willing to come out of our ivory towers to do and, to be honest, haven't the skills to do even if we would. However, that is a mutually beneficial situation. The products of our labor are immediately salable off planet and will make the colony viable in interplanetary trade centuries before a normal independent colony would be. It is Max's personal agenda that you should be worried about.

"His area of expertise is the psychological, economical and situational manipulation of population groups. Up to now, he has been severely limited in his experiments by the laws, morals and political aims of others. In the colony, he will have no such limiting factors. You and yours are slated to be his own personal set of lab rats unless you take measures to protect yourselves."

"What!!!!??? But that's not possible. Everything is spelled out in the contract he offered us. We control the colony government. He and any others in your group would only be there as advisors. The colony gets twenty percent of the group's income in taxes, fair market value for any goods and services and standard wages for anyone employed by the group. No tariffs for imports; shipping charges written off as group expense; free clinic medical; a computerized educational system; it's all there and MMM&P will handle the group's marketing and the bookkeeping for both the group and the colony. How could he manipulate that?"

Syrus shook his head in disbelief. Riddick understood Rafferty better but still wondered how the merc had survived and even ran his own business with such a limited knowledge of how things really worked. He chimed in with a layman's explanation.

"Fuck! How did you ever survive out there? Sen's got control of the money and the ships. So where's your twenty percent taxes and all those benefits if he doesn't release any of the group's work to be marketed for a few years and there isn't any group income? Or if there is income but all those benefits you get pull the gross down until there ain't no net? And what kind of imports are you going to have if Sen controls the ships and doesn't make supply runs when you need them? If you're smart you'll take some of that control away from Sen. You'll back Jenna's control of the ships. She isn't planning to take them away from the colony and she'll play fair with you if Sen does try some of that shit."

Rafferty was shaken but still not convinced.

"Just why would I take advice from a slam-head like you?"

Syrus exploded.

"Oh my god! It's a good thing that you have a great body because your brain is hardly above imbecile! After what you did, he has every right to send you tumbling after Sulleman. Instead, he's giving me the chance to keep you and your people as a very necessary asset to the colony. Since I estimate his IQ as at least thirty-five points above yours it would be to your great benefit to put aside your parochial prejudices and take his advice regardless of his past history, or perhaps because of it.

"Also, he hasn't even scratched the surface as far as what Max could manipulate. What happens when the colony breaks up into more than one settlement and dear Max arranges it so that one settlement is getting more of the pie than the others? The group is buying more supplies from them, their people are hired for better or more jobs? Things they need are getting shipped in first? Actually he wouldn't even need to wait that long. He could easily do the same thing by splitting you along vocational lines; rancher versus farmer, rural versus urban.

"The real irony of your stupidity is that Riddick is the one person among us who is in a position similar to your own and does understand your dream of a new life."

Rafferty turned a disbelieving glare on Riddick. Happy with how Syrus was handling things so far, he answered the merc with a shrug and a short qualifier.

"Yeah, but I see things more like Jenna does, open space. I'll stick with the ships until she gets tired of me and gives me a sweet package like the BC to get rid of me."

Riddick didn't realize what he had said until he heard himself saying it. The extreme sinicism of his tone as well as his words, over the top even for him, shocked him. Rafferty didn't seem to have noticed it, focusing instead on what must have seemed to him as an admission of a plan for future blackmail.

"So you admit that you're after the ships!"

But Syrus hadn't missed it and was giving Riddick a very piercing analytical stare. He quickly gave them something else to think about.

"Just one and a little one at that. I figure it's more than fair payment for all the shit that wasn't mentioned when I took this contract. And you'd better be fucking glad that's the way I want it. If I was the kind to settle down on a colony, the last thing I would be doing would be helping a bunch of mercs with long memories become my neighbors. Not that you've convinced me I should be helping you. Just what were you planning to do to get rid of me? Just kill me? Or were you going to try to collect the bounty on me?"

Rafferty started looking sick again.

"The bounty can't be collected. There's no way to prove who you are unless the group and everything they've done is exposed. My contract was to kill you."

"So how does that make you any better than me, merc?!" Riddick had had about all he could stomach of the redhead. He turned to Syrus. "If this piece of rationalizing shit is so important to you, you convince him to play on Jenna's side or I will kill him. Now, I've had a long day and I'm getting something to eat and some sleep." Then as he headed toward the door, "While you're finding out what else Sen is up to, I want to know if he said anything about the bug problem? The one in the hold or the one in the ship's system?"

Riddick wasn't really hungry and he certainly wasn't in the mood for company. He avoided the room where they had left Nagia and the children, choosing instead the one where the luggage had been stored. He was pleased to find that only his own remained, which meant that Syrus had been given another room and wouldn't be disturbing him. Removing his boots but not his weapons, he flopped down on the bed and focused on the mosaic pattern of the ceiling to calm himself.

He wasn't worried about how things would come out with Rafferty. Aside from the fact that Syrus was probably telling more of the truth of the situation, when he put his mind to it, the cold-blooded bastard was a match for Sen in the manipulation department. He would have the merc back in his bed and eating out of his hand before Rafferty knew what hit him.

What was bothering Riddick was what he, himself, had said about the way he and Jenna might end up. What was that shit that had spilled out of his mouth? Was it what he really believed would happen? Or ... was it what he wanted to happen? The more he thought about it the more he really didn't know which one it was. But, he did know that it was bugging the shit out of him that he had no idea of what she wanted from him.

'It's whatever you want it to be.' What kind of fucking game was that? Women either wanted fun and games and no strings or they wanted to be your cellmate in max-lockdown, marriage. And neither one was going to put up with you wanting it to be the other way, no matter how hard they tried to do it. If they tried for too long something inside them died. They either became hard and bitter or broken. The one thing he was sure of was that he didn't want to be the one who did that to Jenna.

But Jenna wasn't like any other woman he had ever met. Maybe she did want something different, something in between those two extremes. But how the fuck was he supposed to know what that was and if it was something he could be ok with if she wouldn't tell him?

He finally fell into a fitful sleep, plagued by dreams of Jenna either clinging to him, begging and pleading, as he left her or cold faced with disgust as she told him to leave.


	36. Chapter 36 Back in Space

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 36 – Back in Space

After less sleep than he really wanted and several rude wake-ups caused by the dreams his unruly subconscious was forcing on him, Riddick finally gave up. In the conscious memories he could recall, say back to about age four or five, he couldn't remember having dream problems like this. He had the opinion of various yoyos that he had it before that and didn't have access to his previous memories because of it but he'd always thought that was a load of crap. Now, he wasn't so sure. Right now, he sure as hell would like to forget the last few hours and something like that would had to have been worse for a kid.

But he wasn't a kid, now. He'd worked long and hard to make sure that nobody could ever lay that kind of shit on him again. So why was it happening? One answer: Jenna. Something about her had crawled under his skin like nobody ever had; certainly not Beshue, not Jack, not even Carolyn Fry for all the changes he'd made in his life because of her.

So, what was he going to do about it? After several minutes of scalp massaging thinking, the only idea that didn't set some part of him screaming to kill something was to get back to the Hole and force her to give him a better answer than that fucking 'whatever you want it to be' shit.

With a vicious growl, he pulled his boots on and filled the weapons sheaths in them with his extra stunner and straight dagger from the luggage; something he hadn't wanted to do with Casmir watching before they had gone after Sulleman. He then headed back to the sitting room to see if he couldn't do something to hurry the process of getting his ass off of New Mecca. It eased his lousy mood a little when he found Nagia and the children gone and Casmir waiting there for him. The young man was busy with a large pile of folders and seemed a bit surprised at his appearing so quickly.

"I had been informed that you required sleep."

Seeing that there was a fresh buffet on ice, Riddick started piling bread, cold cuts, cheese and fruit on a plate.

"I did that. Now, I'm hungry."

If Casmir noticed the terseness of Riddick's reply or the tightly controlled anger under it, he didn't react to it.

"I have been in contact with my associates and all matters here on New Mecca are being dealt with. I am most anxious to complete our bargain and begin negotiations with the Princess Mira. When will you be ready to return to your ship?"

Riddick felt something turn over inside of him. He wanted nothing more than to set the plate back on the buffet and head immediately for the BC. He forced himself to add a large cup of strong coffee to his meal and sit down across the low table from the Prince.

"First, I'm going to eat. Then I'll have to meet whoever you're sending to talk to Mira. Next, I need to settle things with Rommy."

From the small, amused smile Casmir gave him, Riddick figured that he hadn't covered his first impulse very well. Well, hell, what did it matter? Who wouldn't want to get this shit over with and get back where he belonged? 'Belonged?' Shit! This thought bothered him so much he almost missed Casmir's next question.

"I'm afraid that Mr. Logan has returned to his own establishment. I can send a messenger to bring him back, if you would like?"

Riddick looked thoughtful for a moment to cover his initial inattention.

"No. I need to go there anyway. What about your man?"

"May I ask why you must speak to him?"

"Let's just say I like to know what the people I'm traveling with look like. I'm not gonna tell you who you can send but I want to make sure that he knows to stick to your business and keep his nose out of the group's. I figure that a little pre-convincing won't hurt."

Another amused smile from Casmir got him a hard look from Riddick until what he had to say took the edge off of it.

"I cannot doubt that you would be very convincing no matter who I chose but I can assure you that 'he' is not in need of it. After what Nagia has told me of the Princess' adjustment to the culture of your ship, I have decided that this matter would be handled better in a non-traditional manner. I will serve as my own envoy. And, yes, I have no intention of meddling in anything but my own purposes. I do not enjoy the political intrigue my own circumstances have forced upon me and I certainly do not wish to add another. How do you propose we arrange the exodus to your ship?"

Riddick gave the prince marks for deciding to handle the marriage proposal personally but wasn't happy with the idea of having to pack the BC from stem to stern with all the people and 'stuff' that he had seen accompanying most royals on any trip away from home, much less what the prince might consider necessary to go-a-courting.

"Just how many people are you planning on? The ship is long on cargo space but short on jump berths."

Casmir's answer surprised him.

"Other than the children you have purchased, I will be the only addition to your party. I do not wish the reason for my absence to become public knowledge unless I secure a positive outcome. My luggage will consist of only two trunks, one for my personal needs and one containing the proper gifts for the Princess. Some traditions must be adhered to."

A relieved Riddick added more points to the prince's credit.

"It will take me about an hour to settle with Rommy. Can you be ready to travel by then?"

"I am ready now."

Riddick glanced at the pile of files and raised an eyebrow.

"Merely busy work, nothing that my Major Domo cannot handle in my absence."

Riddick didn't quite believe that one but let it drop. The promise of a quick exit from New Mecca had almost erased his earlier dark mood. He quickly began discussing the way he wanted to handle the trip to the BC.

Casmir agreed that Riddick would take Syrus and Rafferty with him and that Casmir would be responsible for Nagia, the children and all the luggage, including that of the rescue party. He smiled wirily when Riddick refused to divulge the location of the BC but quickly agreed to a rendezvous point on the outskirts of the city and being led to the ship.

Riddick found that he wasn't surprised that Casmir was a qualified skimmer pilot for the type of commercial sized vehicle the larger group would require, something most royals considered a job for the hired help. This prince had been raised not to rely on his rank and privilege but on himself; to use it, yes, but not to allow it to limit him in any way. Riddick hoped that Casmir could accept a princess who had decided she wanted the same for herself.

When the plans were finalized, Casmir ordered one of the guards to rouse Syrus and Rafferty and another to see to it that Nagia and the children were prepared for the journey. It wasn't long before Riddick and his two companions, Syrus grumbling about barbarians who didn't understand the value of proper sleep and Rafferty still looking apprehensive, were being smuggled out of the compound and delivered to Rommy's building. Casmir must have called ahead. Rommy was expecting them, the doors to his lab area already open.

"Good. I get my test lab back. I should charge you extra, bucko. I'm behind on several projects because of garaging that little booby trap of yours."

"Stuff it, Rommy. You blew it at Amiran's place but you did good with Casmir. I'll see that you get the copy of it I promised."

"Always a pleasure doing business with you, Max. Just try to keep it simpler next time."

Riddick kept a straight face but was roaring with laughter on the inside. Rommy didn't know the half of how complicated it could have been if the group and their enemies had become involved. But, Rommy would be a good contact for Jenna.

"Well, if you like my business so much, if a lady ever tells you that Max sent her, you be sure to do right by her."

"Oh, I will. I certainly will. Anyone you call 'a lady' will be worth meeting."

Neither the gleam of interest in Rommy's pale eyes nor the quick smirk Syrus threw him set well with Riddick but he let it ride and turned his attention to the skimmer. Rafferty had been sidling toward it ever since they had entered the lab and he was getting too close.

"Don't touch it!"

The merc literally jumped back from the craft. As Riddick climbed into the pilot seat and disarmed the security destruct, he heard Rafferty questioning Syrus.

"Just what's that all about?"

"You heard the albino, Love, booby trapped; total vaporization, if I remember correctly. If anyone but our esteemed First Officer had touched it, there wouldn't even be pieces left to clean up. I suggest that you assume the same about the BC until he tells you otherwise."

Though Riddick appreciated the help in keeping the merc off balance, he didn't see the necessity of telling Syrus that he also could have safely used the skimmer and the BC, especially not where the merc could hear it. Besides, if Syrus knew that much about it, he probably also knew that any member of the Hole's crew would have been able to disarm it. Ordering them both into the skimmer and with a final nod to Rommy, he drove the skimmer out into the street, switched to flight mode and headed for the rendezvous point.

He had told Casmir that his business with Rommy would take longer than he knew it would for a reason. Arriving much earlier than the agreed upon time, Riddick made both an electronic and a visual scan for any unusual traffic. The area was a popular park and gardens but only in the daytime. At this time of night, any traps or surveillance that Casmir, or any of those associates he had spoken of for that matter, might have set up would have been obvious. Even after the prince's skimmer arrived, a deluxe model about twice the size of the bus the group had used on Derius 4, Riddick took plenty of time to make sure that there were no accompanying vehicles for a wide area around them.

He also used the skimmer's electronics to search for any tracking transmissions emanating from the bus. He found none and even the bus' normal traffic identification transmission had been disabled. When the side hatch opened, Riddick also made a scan of the interior of the bus. There were thirteen life-forms, all the right sizes. As promised, only Nagia and the children had accompanied Casmir.

All this was probably an unnecessary precaution since Casmir wanted this trip to go as smoothly and secretly as Riddick did. But old habits die hard. If they don't, you usually do. Landing next to the larger skimmer, he turned to Syrus.

"Can you pilot that bus?"

The doctor answered him with a raised eyebrow and a dour look.

"Who do you think pilots the group's bus? Max? Too short to reach the controls. Ben? Too excitable. One of the Ménage a Trios? Oh, please! Any one of them would take a hired limo to the loo if they could find a way to do it."

Riddick wondered if Syrus had the ability to use a simple 'yes' or 'no' and decided probably not.

"Then you go tell the Prince to shove over and head due south. I'll take the lead as soon as I'm sure that no one is following us." Then Riddick had a second thought. "Did you think to get your second stunner out of the luggage?"

"Of course."

Well, that was closer.

"Then if he gives you any trouble now or makes a move to take over the controls later, stun him. And tell him that if I read any transmissions coming off of that circus wagon, I'll shoot it down and worry about survivors later."

Damned if Syrus didn't give Riddick a look of approval before getting out of the skimmer, his stunner in his hand. As quickly as the bus became airborne after Syrus entered it, either he had stunned Casmir immediately or the man had cooperated without question. Riddick watched the bus' smooth assent and swift departure to the south and gave Syrus credit for being good at his word. Those behemoths could waddle like a ruptured duck if you didn't have a good touch for the controls.

After waiting a few moments to see if the bus' departure had attracted any attention, Riddick turned in his seat and, with no warning, stunned Rafferty. He had enough to watch out for without having the merc to worry about. Then, he jumped for altitude and did a full check of the area again. Satisfied that there was no immediate pursuit, he caught up with the bus and, following at a much higher altitude, continued to run checks for quite a while. Only when it was necessary to change the direction of flight, did he finally take the lead. Even then, he didn't go directly for the BC but ran a modified dogleg pattern until he was completely certain that Casmir was playing it straight.

Entry into the hold of the BC was made without any problems and Riddick made for the bridge while Syrus and Casmir, aided by a still woozy Rafferty, secured the vehicles with clamps and tie downs and helped Nagia settle the children into the cabins. He was ready for take off and waiting when Syrus and Casmir entered the bridge.

"Are they all secured?"

Casmir seemed totally mesmerized by the design and technology of the BC and it was doubtful he even heard the question. It was Syrus who answered as he directed the wide-eyed prince toward one of the front slots and took the other for himself.

"The children are two and three to a bunk but safely tucked in. And yes, before you ask, I did put Red into security lock down. I thought it would be more healthful for him than being stunned again." Then with a chuckle, "He must agree. He actually thanked me for it."

Riddick kept the weapons system at the ready and carefully monitored the security system for any threats while allowing Syrus to take the BC into space. Once they were safely speeding toward the location of the Hole, he relaxed and turned his mind to the other complications of their situation. That's when he discovered that Syrus wasn't doing as well as he was pretending he was.

As he turned to discuss what he had learned from Rafferty, Riddick saw a definite tremble in his hands and heard the tension in his voice of a man who was holding on by pure stubbornness and way too many pain meds. He was also getting paler by the minute. This irritated Riddick. There was no reason for Syrus to be pushing himself to that point rather than admitting that he wasn't up to it. Riddick interrupted him.

"Did you save one of those berths for yourself?"

Syrus blinked, caught off guard by the question. His allowing that to show solidified Riddick's opinion of his condition.

"Yes. Why?"

"Because you should be in it. We can save this until we're back in the Hole and Jenna can be in on it. I don't want to hear what she's gonna say if I bring you back in this condition. It's too bad we don't have one of those healing chambers on board."

"Actually, there is a portable model in stores."

Riddick ground his teeth in frustration.

"Then why aren't you in it!?"

Syrus snapped back in an equally nasty tone.

"I don't think I've got the strength to set it up."

Before Riddick could make any comment about the stupidity of that answer and turn the argument into a full fledged war, Casmir rose and stepped between them, volunteered to be the muscle in that procedure and gently but determinedly hustled Syrus off the bridge. However, he was back rather quickly.

"The chamber was heavy but not complicated to assemble. The doctor is checking its functioning now. I have come to request that you lock me into the cabin with him. That way I will be able to watch over him and you will be able to trust the ship on autopilot and rest as well. As phenomenal as your strength is, it has also been heavily tested. I do not think that I would care to have your captain feel that I am responsible for causing harm to the health of one of her people any more than you would."

Looking into Casmir's deep, dark eyes, Riddick read understanding but censure as well. He suddenly felt that he wasn't behaving much better than Syrus was. Caution was a better excuse than pride but he just might be carrying it a little too far.

"No, you wouldn't. But I'll get more rest if you're willing to take care of any problems Nagia and the kids might have." Then Riddick removed his stunner from his boot and set it on the next to lowest setting and held it out to Casmir. "If you have to let Rafferty up, don't let him out of your sight and keep this aimed at him. It won't put him totally out but it will make him easy to get locked down again if he doesn't behave."

Instead of taking the stunner, Casmir noted the setting on it, reached into his right boot and pulled out a slightly different model and set it to match. Then he gave Riddick another one of those gentle smiles.

"I am honored by your trust. I shall endeavor to deserve it."

Hell if Riddick didn't believe that he really meant it. He didn't have any trouble at all in allowing himself to fall into a restful sleep in the reclined slot after he had set the autopilot.

Riddick jerked awake and reached for the weapons controls before he realized that the alarm wasn't a security one but only the autopilot signaling that they were only an hour from the logged destination. He looked up to find Casmir seated in one of the front slots watching him. Shit, he must really have decided the man was trustworthy to have not awakened when he entered the bridge.

"How are things aft?"

At Casmir's questioning look, Riddick flipped a thumb toward the cabins.

"Oh, yes. Everything is fine. Nagia is supervising the children in the cargo area. I allowed Mr. Rafferty to get up twice, once to eat and again to relieve himself. He was well behaved both times and is locked down again. Syrus is still sleeping but should be awakened shortly, if not already. His color is much improved and his visible injuries seem to be almost completely healed. I assume the damage to his ribs will take longer but that machine is truly remarkable, much better than those available on New Mecca. I will need to find out why that is so."

Riddick's alarms went off. That kind of inquiry could cause the group problems.

"It may have improvements that the Company or the central government has kept for themselves. If you talk it over with Syrus or Jenna, they can probably help you get your hands on some of them anyway."

Casmir smiled widely.

"Now that is a truly noble item for a smuggler to deal in."

Riddick was still chuckling over the idea of 'noble smuggling' when Syrus walked onto the bridge, still looking sleepy but much better, carrying a tray of sandwiches and three mugs of coffee.

"Nagia has lowered me to the state of a domestic. Luncheon is served, gentlemen."

The rest had greatly improved both Riddick's and Syrus' tempers and they were back to enjoying each other's company during the meal. Casmir also proved to be a good social conversationalist but excused himself and left the bridge when Riddick and Syrus began discussing what Rafferty had revealed. The Prince was obviously making sure that he kept his word concerning not becoming involved in group business.

While Jenna might find a great deal more in the merc's information, what really interested Riddick was what he had to say about the bugs. It seemed that, in Rafferty's opinion, Sen hadn't been all that worried about the subtle and sophisticated tarantula but coldly angry over the relatively amateur bug placed in the hold.

To Riddick, that was solid proof that Sen was responsible for the tarantula and angry because the other bug had caused its being discovered. Syrus wasn't so sure.

"It could also be that he knows who is responsible for the tarantula and has them back under his control but doesn't know who planted the box in the hold. Max doesn't like not knowing things and one of the group doing things that he has no control over would really twist his tail. Also, even if he is responsible for the tarantula, we don't know his motive."

Riddick gave Syrus his best 'oh, yeah, right' look, prompting the man to explain that.

"You haven't been around Max nearly long enough to understand him. He is at his best playing both ends against the middle. I have often questioned how we could have gotten away with the building of these ships and all the materials we have acquired to supply them, not to mention the siphoning of funds for them and for the accounts we have set up for our use, without someone becoming aware of what we were doing. The tarantula may be the price for allowing us to do so.

"There has been quite a bit of movement toward challenging the take over of the Institute in the courts. The powers-that-be could easily have been convinced that the colony was the answer to that problem, all of their egg-heads in one basket via a voluntary migration and out of the jurisdiction of any planetary court. Now, whether Max sold us out completely or not is the question.

"In my opinion, he probably didn't. The double-cross is his forte and I don't believe he would want those bastards still on our back any more than I would. He may never have intended for the device to survive longer than our first few jumps, just long enough for them to trust him enough to relax their guard.

"I've studied the possible destinations that were plotted into the nav system and, while they all look good, I don't think that any of them are up to Max's usual standards. I think that they are red herrings and I don't think that we will find out where the colony is actually going to be located until Max is good and ready to tell us."

Riddick was still thinking about this when the autopilot signaled that they had reached their destination and he began a visual scan to locate the Hole. After the first scan failed to locate it, he cussed himself out royally for letting himself be distracted enough to miss it and started the scan again. When the second scan still didn't locate the Hole, Riddick tried to ignore the black hole that his stomach was turning into and reached for the com consol to send out a ping on the secure channel.

He didn't feel much better when the ping was returned. It was a message buoy, not the Hole, that answered. He ignored Syrus' repeated questions and concentrated on retrieving the buoy and downloading its message. Then, after reading it, he was too busy raving to answer.

"I'm going to kill him! I'm going to kill the little gutter rat with my bare hands! I'm going to tear him into pieces and feed them to him!"

Then, he shut up because it was taking all his energy to keep from ripping the arms off of the command slot. Wisely, Syrus had become as silent as Riddick. When he finally got enough control to punch the proper buttons, Riddick transferred the message to the screen of the slot that Syrus was occupying. After a much longer time than was necessary for the man to have read it, Syrus finally spoke, his tone very neutral and calm with none of its usual bite.

"Why is it so disturbing that they are purchasing an auxiliary ship?"

After a few more deep breaths, Riddick finally answered.

"It's where they went to get it! That fucking Jeeter took them into the worst den of smugglers and pirates this side of the universe! And ... from what Jenna wrote, they should be back by now!"

"I'll help you kill him."

While Jeeter's fate seemed to be a given, how they were going to deliver it to him wasn't. Much as they hated the delay it would cause in their going after Jenna, both Riddick and Syrus agreed that Casmir, Nagia and the children had to be returned to New Mecca. Casmir and Nagia were just as adamant that they were not going back and for much the same reason, Mira. Then, it was Casmir, Riddick and Syrus against Nagia as to whether she and the children should be returned. They lost.

"I will not trust anyone else on New Mecca to protect us." Then the telling argument, "My Princess would not respect a man who would so abandon us. It is doubtful she would consider him suitable for her husband."

Casmir immediately switched sides and Riddick had had enough of the whole thing.

"Fuck it." He turned to Syrus. "Do we have enough hyper meds to dose everybody?"

"Yes."

"Then get 'em down and shoot 'em up. I'm entering the jump plot and heading toward the gate."

"What about revival meds?"

"The kids can sleep it off. Better for them anyway. Fix them for the adults. But I'm not waiting to jump. Fix your own first and be ready to drop everything when I call you to the bridge."

"The bridge?"

"I won't be able to leave the controls to come back there. And you're not getting the command slot, so bring one of the mattresses with you if you don't want to sleep on the bare deck."

The rush off of the bridge was dramatic and Riddick had to force himself to ignore what sounded like a grade school fire drill going on behind him as he headed the BC out system and began programming and fine-tuning the jump nav. The BC wasn't as smart as the Hole. She was better than anything Riddick had had his hands on since he was in the Forces. Actually, she was better than most of those, too. But she still required more time to prepare for a jump than her mother ship did.

They were nearing the point where Riddick needed to call Syrus to the bridge when he was finally satisfied with the nav entries and looked up to find the man huffing onto the bridge, dragging a bunk pad and bedding behind him. Riddick took the two syringes held out to him, one hastily marked 'sleep' and the other marked 'wake', and watched as the man made up his pallet, reclined on it with all the dignity of a sultan, flared a blanket to spread perfectly over him, gave his pillow a final fluff and relaxed into an excellent imitation of a boiled noodle.

"Ready whenever you are, stud."

Riddick chuckled. You just had to give the bastard an A for style. An A for good sense as well. It hadn't escaped Riddick's notice that Syrus only went fairy on him when no one else was around. Nor did he take it too far. There were no wrong moves when Riddick knelt beside him and gave him the 'sleep' hypo. As long as Syrus played his game that way, Riddick didn't have a problem with it. It was just Syrus' strange way of telling Riddick that he had accepted him as part of the 'family'.

As the ship neared the departure point for the jump, Riddick found himself wishing he could be sleeping soundly like everyone else on the ship. The jump was a short one but still too much time in the expanded senses of hyper with nothing but worry for Jenna on his mind. He really was going to make Jeeter pay for this one.


	37. Chapter 37 Hell's Bells Station

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 37 – Hell's Bells Station

The hyper jump hadn't been as bad as Riddick had expected. Oh, the worry for Jenna had definitely been there but there had been a strange, soothing calm, as well. It was as if somehow he could feel Jenna's essence there with him. And Riddick didn't have any explanation for it. He had jumped with co-pilots before, many of them a lot more than once, and never felt any later effects like this. Of course, he had never jumped with anyone else where they ended up trying to swallow each other's tongues but he was pretty sure that that didn't have anything to do with it.

It was as if something of hyper had always been a part of Jenna or she a part of it but he just hadn't realized it before. Riddick had the feeling that it would have been down right spooky if it hadn't been so comforting. But, that it was so comforting wasn't something that he wanted to deal with at the moment, either.

As soon as the ship left hyper, Riddick made sure the BC was still totally invisible and set the security scans to the highest level. Once he was assured that there were no threats in the immediate vicinity, he fetched two large mugs of coffee from the galley and roused Syrus with the 'wake' hypo. He gave the man a short few minutes to recover before getting to business.

"We're going into a snake pit and the more 'guns' we got the better. Can we trust Rafferty?"

That Syrus paused significantly before answering and then qualified his answer gave Riddick confidence in his judgment.

"I don't think that he's completely on our side, yet, as far as the group is concerned but, in a situation like this one, yes."

"Then wake him with Casmir and Nagia. Let them have their choice from the weapons locker for blades and legal guns but everybody gets a lethal stunner, even Nagia. And show her how to use it. She's going to be locked in with the kids and, healer or not, she'll kill before she lets anyone get to them."

"What do you want?"

"A gage with plenty of ammo and one of the disrupter rifles with at least three extra power packs. And you take one, too, if you know how to use it without spacing a hull."

"I think I can handle that. I'll also inject sub-q trackers in everybody and pull tracker-units for all of us. You can track them off of our coms but the tracker-units do a better job of it. I'm sure that if Jenna left the Hole she would have used them as well. They will also protect us from the ship's security measures if the trouble is there."

Riddick thanked the fates for the doctor's quick mind as he began searching for the Hole. He had read all the security files but they weren't second nature to him yet as they obviously were for Syrus. If they had been, he would have used the sub-qs during the rescue rather than Rommy's less sophisticated equipment. Then, he suddenly had an image running through his mind of Sen throwing all kinds of surprise drills and pop quizzes at the group over the months of preparation. The idea of the group of geniuses acting like a bunch of grunts in boot camp was weirdly funny.

It didn't take long to locate the mother ship. Even from this far out, the huge freighter stood out against the background of many much smaller ships. By her solidity, she even challenged the hodge-podge collection of attached structures that made up the artificial world that was known as Hell's Bells Station.

At least the ship was well out from the station. Considering the legs she had on her, she could make it to a jump gate long before anything could catch her. There also didn't seem to be any suspicious activity around the huge ship, no threatening 'guards' hemming her in or scavengers farming her. Riddick took a chance and tried for a contact.

As a precaution, he not only used the security channel and a contact ping only but also routed the signal through the hyper com to make it seem as if whoever was trying to contact the ship was at least a jump away. To his great relief, even though the ping was answered by the same hyper route, it was voice transmission and it was Jack. This was tempered by the fact that she sounded like she was ready to start crying.

"Please, please, Bro, tell me that's you."

"It is, kid. What's going on?"

"You got to get here as quick as you can! Jenna and Jeeter went to do the deal and I don't think that they can get back! Just hurry and get here! I don't know what to do!"

Riddick would have liked to reassure Jack but couldn't take the risk of giving away the BC's location or its identity as an auxiliary of the Hole. The possibility that someone could be listening in wasn't something to discount. Jeeter was a self-admitted smuggler and had brought the Hole in here. It could have just been stupidity but it could also be something else. Nor could he keep his own anxiety from toughening his voice, as he fell back on the standard cover-story Jenna had devised for the ship.

"Calm down, Pilot-in-Training, and tell me everything that's happened."

After a silence, in which Riddick could imagine Jack screwing up her face in that funny way she had as she pulled herself together, she began speaking again in her junior-officer-to-senior-officer voice.

"The Captain and the Second Officer made contact with a Mr. Wiggler, an acquaintance of the Second Officer. They then accepted transportation from him to view several planet-landers he has for sale. They have been gone 14.25 hours. While the Captain has made regular check-in calls, stating that everything is going well, it is not standard procedure for her to jeopardize our tight delivery schedule in this manner."

OK, she was together and following Riddick's lead but definitely pissed off. Though she had every right to have reacted as she did, she was still only a kid, Riddick really hoped that she was pissed off at herself for doing it and not at him for calling her down on it. Jack could really hold a grudge when she wanted to. The only time he had really pissed her off before, when he had left New Mecca without her, it had taken a long time for her to finally forgive him. This wasn't anything that serious but it could be good for a couple of weeks of pouting.

"What is the ship's status?"

"We're on bridge lock-down, Sir, but all positions are crewed and hot."

Shit, that could mean trouble with the rest of the group. It definitely meant that Mira and Ben were on the bridge with Jack and, at least in the kids' opinions, they were ready to fight if necessary.

"Good. Keep it that way. Your Captain is a stickler for a tight ship." Then for any possible eavesdropper, "I'm sure the Captain has everything under control. The Patrol would laugh themselves silly if Dispatch called in a report of an Independent Captain taking a little unauthorized R & R. You've registered the jump plot with Central and that's enough to keep anything nasty from happening. I suggest that you run drills, particularly your flight plots, Trainee, to occupy yourself until the Captain orders otherwise. I know that this is your first bridge assignment and with a short crew but you are doing a fine job so far so don't ruin that record. Still, I'm sure you will be happy to learn that we have secured a new First Officer and he's ready for immediate pick-up."

The relief in Jack's voice was palatable.

"Yes, Sir! You can't know how happy that makes me, Sir."

"Good. Now, please inform the Captain of that and also ask her if she wishes me to arrange alternate transport for her next cargo pick-up or if she will be finished with her business in time to handle it herself. Com me with her answer as soon as possible." Then to cover the non-regulation beginning of their conversation and to give Jack a little long distance cuddle, "Hang in there, kid, you're doing the family proud. But keep it regulation until you're sure it's me on this end of the com. End trans."

"Thanks, Bro. End trans."

Riddick said another of his prayers-to-nobody that both Jack and Jenna would understand his quickly invented code phrases and turned to the security scan, setting it to find sub-qs. Even through the almost constant transmission static surrounding the station, spacers loved to gossip when given the chance, Riddick had Jeeter's and Jenna's trackers located within minutes. They were in the central section of the station that was, according to Riddick's memory of his one visit to the place, the personal domain of the station's owner. But his name wasn't Wiggler. It was Midas McGhee and he didn't deal in small shit like the planet-lander Jenna was looking for. He dealt in large shit … like the Hole.

After setting the scanners to the task of trying to map the internal labyrinth of the station, Riddick looked up to find Syrus, armed with the required stunner, a gage and a disrupter rifle and extra ammo bandoleers for both and holding a set of the same out to him. As Riddick took the weapons and bandoleers and set them beside the slot, he spotted Casmir and Rafferty standing behind Syrus. Casmir had chosen a gage and a handgun but nothing illegal other than the stunner. Rafferty hadn't bothered with legality at all, no gage and both a disrupter rifle and a laser pistol. Both men also had extra ammo bandoleers for their chosen arsenal. Syrus, aware of Riddick's jaw tightening at Rafferty's choice of weapons, gave him a small shrug as he injected a tracker into his upper arm.

"He says he knows how to handle them. What's the situation and what are we going to do about it?"

After briefly rehashing his and Jack's conversation and explaining Jeeter's and Jenna's location, Riddick gave an equally brief battle plan.

"So, we get as close as we can and wait to find out what Jenna tells Jack. If she needs help, we go in after them. If she says 'not', we run silent until they either get out of there or we have to go in after them anyway.

"If we do go in, we get right outside the commercial bay nearest their location and use a tractor beam to shoot a message buoy into the other end of the station as a distraction. Hopefully, they'll think it's just a piece of their own junk that holed them. Even a small hull breach will make a lot of them go running for their own ships and there will be emergency repair crews moving out so there will be bays opening and closing like revolving doors. No one should question a ship going in to pick up its people. Inside, we move quick, ignore anyone who ignores us and kill anyone who tries to get in our way until we find them.

"Casmir, you need to get out of those fancy robes. They'll attract too much attention. See what you can scrounge from our luggage if you didn't pack any 'working' duds. Now, somebody volunteer to get us something to eat and more coffee, a lot more coffee, while I see what kind of an internal schematic of that jumbled mess the scans have given us."

Jenna sat at the huge head table keeping a smile on her face, making social small-talk about the excellence of the food and entertainment and pretending to be slightly drunk and totally oblivious to Midas McGhee's not so subtle attempts at seduction and more subtle attempts to get information about her cover-story business and her ship and its cargo. The only clue to the anger seething inside her was the occasional daggered look that she threw at Jeeter when no one else was looking.

She had gotten herself into a right ugly mess and wasn't sure how she was going to get herself out of it. It wasn't even fair that she was taking it out on Jeeter, either. He hadn't wanted her to come onto the station, had tried his best to talk her into allowing him to do the deal alone. But, no, she couldn't resist satisfying her curiosity.

Everything had gone fine with the hyper jump and their initial contact with Jeeter's 'friend' Wiggler; a happy, rotund little man who could have been a used anything salesman any where in the universe. Their deal for the planet-lander also went smoothly. The little ship was a beauty, everything it had been promised to be.

It had plenty of illegal armament already and could be easily adapted to handle any upgrades Jenna decided to add. The central brain, com system, security system and engines were the same; would do for now and easily improved. There was even a possibility that hyper drive could be added to it, with only a small sacrifice of the cargo space, but Jenna would wait for David's opinion on that. During a short test flight both in free space and around the crowded area of the station, it handled like a dream.

Its accompanying skimmer wasn't as good. It was a basic sport model with nothing but a little more speed and sleeker lines than the standard businessman's commuter model, nothing that could get you out of a bad situation. It would require a complete rebuild and heavy modifications to bring it up to the level of usefulness Jenna would require. Jenna wondered if that was the reason the original owner wasn't around anymore.

When she used this thought as a bargaining point to get a better price out of Wiggler, she found out that she had been right. The man had been a local in-system smuggler, caught in a sting planet-side and captured in the skimmer before he could get to his sweet little yacht and escape. The only reason that the skimmer was still with the yacht was that he had chosen to land rather than being blown out of the air. After a quick and summary trial, the local police, judging the yacht by the skimmer without checking it out better, had released both to the widow who had quickly traded them to Wiggler for something legal before anyone could think to take a closer look.

Jeeter had been right about the unjustified hoodoo on the ship. Wiggler allowed his already equitable price to be cut to the point that, since G had kept his stash in large denomination bills, the 'trash cash' from Derius 4 paid for the ship. When they returned from the bay where the ship was berthed to Wiggler's office to sign the ownership papers and arrange for his payment, the trader's eyes had gotten as large as saucers when Jenna began counting out the payment and he realized that the four huge satchels, that Jenna and Jeeter had brought with them and had left sitting unguarded on his office floor, were not their luggage for a little R & R but contained bundles of money.

It turned out that it was an almost exact change deal and Jenna had thrown the small bit of extra and the satchels in for 'good will' as she might want to do business with Wiggler again in the future. The trader had still been somewhat dazed when he handed over the access codes for the ship, the authorization for its removal from the bay and the plot information for the hyper gate and jump that would take them back to New Mecca.

That made Jenna nervous and much more aware of just how stupid it had been to leave the Hole in the hands of three untried youngsters. She had been so worried about finding a way to get to Riddick that she hadn't considered the fact that the original information hadn't included a return plot and what that told about the nature of this station. This time she listened to Jeeter and his pleas that they take the ship and make a run for it immediately. But it was too late.

As they exited Wiggler's office and headed for the bay, they were suddenly surrounded by six large, very large, and very well armed men dressed in what seemed to be somewhat flashy security uniforms. Before Jenna could make any decision as to what to do about this, a slightly tinny voice called out from behind the wall of muscle.

"Stand down, boys. No reason to frighten our visitors."

The muscle parted as if by a prearranged cue, which Jenna had no doubt that it was, to reveal a surprisingly average looking man. He was average height, about Jenna's own with out the wedges; average build, if slightly overweight; average coloring, cream and light brown everywhere; even his clothing matched his own color pallet perfectly; and average age, maybe mid-forties. He reminded her of nothing more than a mid-level corporate go-fer that would never be anything more.

At least, that was the case until she got to the eyes. His eyes were like Sen's but with a lot less practice at the innocent, benevolent façade. She knew they were in deep shit before he turned his full attention on her and the tinny tenor of his voice turned oily.

"It's really nothing to worry about, my dear, just a small matter of registering your orbit with the Station Control Center. We are a small and provincial station but we do have a few regulations. Just paper work for traffic control, really nothing serious. If you'll come with me, I'm certain we can clear it up in no time at all. Oh, how crude of me not to introduce myself. I'm Midas McGhee. And you, my dear?"

Jenna introduced herself as Captain Lilly Wells of the independent freighter Excelsior and Jeeter as her Second Officer, Jay Homes, as she followed McGhee down the corridor. She couldn't think of anything else to do but accept the man's offer of escort. It could be nothing more than a bit of bureaucratic paper pushing and it would be stupid to turn things into a firefight until she was certain it wasn't. There was also the fact that she had serious doubts that she and Jeeter had any chance at all against the six security guards unless she could find a way to get them to relax and drop their total concentration on their job, something that they didn't seem apt to do anytime soon.

Things got worse as they walked and McGhee engaged her in a seemingly pleasant conversation that was nothing but a thinly disguised interrogation. What really irritated her was that while he seemed to be buying her cover story of an independent but working for a large co-op, a safety measure that had been put into the cover story since truly independents were such easy prey, he used that to weave his web of congenial hospitality even tighter.

Identifying himself as the owner of the station and therefore extremely interested in attracting more such prestigious traffic as her large freighter, he insisted that she allow him the chance to impress her with the suitability of his station for others with similar emergency needs as hers. He closed the trap with an offer of a percentage of any profits should she be able to direct any business his way, a chance for income that no true independent would refuse to consider.

Jenna could tell by the anxiety that was radiating from Jeeter that McGhee had no intention of broadcasting his well protected location to legitimate traffic, and thereby the Patrol. It took her a little while longer to understand exactly what he was up to. The key to it was the sweet little yacht, a very illegal sweet little yacht and not something a legal freighter Captain would usually be interested in. McGhee was stalling for time until he could be sure what he was dealing with, only a semi-shady independent or a sell out by someone and a Patrol sting, and if it was safe to pick the succulent plum that seemed to have dropped into his lap or he needed to start planning a quick escape.

Under the same circumstances, Jenna thought that she would have chosen to pass on that plum and opt for a 'vacation' until sure that the Patrol wasn't going to show up but McGhee couldn't seem to get around his greed and be that logical. He also seemed to be willing to take all the time he could get to make the decision. She found herself and Jeeter being taken on a detailed tour of the station, the 'important' traffic paper work completely forgotten.

Jenna soon settled into the game she was playing, her curiosity taking over, and actually enjoyed the novel experience. In fact, she had to be careful not to seem so interested after McGhee questioned her interest about some aspects of it and she had to cover by telling him that this was her first run so far from the central worlds and older, Company and Company patterned stations.

When he started flirting with her, she couldn't decide if it meant that he had bought her story or was just trying another tack to test if she were Patrol. Though being thought a Patrol plant seemed like the safer of the two options, she decided that keeping McGhee guessing as long as she could was the best plan.

She reasoned that an independent freighter Captain would want to do business, get it over with and get back on schedule while a Patrol plant would give him all the time he needed to hang himself. For this reason she allowed his flirting to divert her from any serious discussion of business but then switched back to that topic and only agreed to be wined and dined after the station tour with a great deal of persuasion from him. She had continued the same alternating tactic throughout the banquet.

But, she didn't have Sen's love for this and playing a game within a game was giving her a headache. Nor could she find a way to do anything else. The fact that McGhee didn't seem bothered in the least by her check-in calls to the Hole, made on a normal secured channel since no freighter would have the type of high-tech security channels the Hole had, told her that he was definitely monitoring them.

If Riddick or even Syrus had been on the other end, that wouldn't have been a problem. She would have trusted either of them to help plan a way to get her and Jeeter out, communicating with what would seem like normal ship's business but not confirming either McGhee's fears that they were Patrol nor his hopes that they weren't. But, with only Jack, Ben and Mira on the bridge, she couldn't take that risk.

Now, with the banquet dragging on and on and her headache growing worse and worse, Jenna had had it up to the teeth. She was going to have to handle this herself and it was time she did that. A quick re-check of the situation showed that the security sextet was at a more reasonable distance than it had been before and two of its members were concentrating on the scantily clad entertainment more than on their job. Deciding that this was about as good as it was going to get, Jenna gave Jeeter a warning nudge, palmed her dagger and was turning toward McGhee to request an escort to the bay to collect her purchase and leave, forcing him to finally choose between greed and caution, when her com beeped.

Nerves screaming, she hid the dagger under the flare of her long vest and quickly grabbed for the com hoping that McGhee would attribute her uncoordinated fumbling to drinking rather than panic. She made sure to put a little slur in her voice as she answered the call, praying that whoever was on the other end wouldn't say something that would put McGhee on alert any more than the unscheduled call probably already had.

"Captain here. Is there a problem."

"No, Ma'am, but it is a message and an enquiry from Dispatch that they require an answer to, A-sap. I'm to tell you that a new First Officer has been hired and is already waiting for immediate pick-up. They also wanted to know if we would be able to make our next cargo pick-up on time or if they should arrange alternate transport."

Hot damn. If she read that right, Riddick was here and wanted to know if she needed his help. To give herself time to think how to phrase her reply, Jenna turned to McGhee with a slightly tipsy smile.

"I know we haven't talked credits yet, Midas, but will you be paying me a big enough percentage as finder's fee to make the deal worth a lost cargo?"

Luckily, he gave her a vague enough answer to allow her even more time pretending to consider it.

"That would depend on how much business you can send me and how large a cargo you are going to lose, sweet Lily."

After a brief hesitation, Jenna turned to the com again.

"Tell Dispatch to go ahead with the alternate pick-up. And tell them not to be late. That cargo is very time sensitive and I don't want to lose that account. You made a good decision, Trainee, I'm always to be called on anything from Dispatch. End trans."

"Thank you, Captain. End trans."

Now all Jenna had to do was stall McGhee until Riddick made his move. From what she knew of his past, especially some of his escapes, she was almost certain that some sort of diversion, probably a very confusing one, would be part of that. She and Jeeter could use that to get away from McGhee and maybe even out of the station before Riddick had to come in after them.

When Jenna turned back to McGhee, she discovered that might not be easy. He was also ending a com call and he wasn't very happy about what he had learned, probably that his people hadn't detected the communication between the 'Excelsior' and 'Dispatch'. When she tried to initiate a discussion of the proposed business between them, his smile wasn't up to its usual standards but he did continue to play the game. He murmured suggestively that they retire to his private quarters, alone, to do that. Jenna squashed that idea quickly.

"As much as I might enjoy that, Midas, I have made it a policy not to become intimate with anyone I'm doing business with until after the deal is made. We talk business here and now. If I don't like the deal, I have a cargo to get to before Dispatch can send someone else. If we do agree on it …," She gave him what she hoped was a believable 'I'm interested' look. "Well, I could definitely make time for a little … personal celebration."

Jenna breathed an internal sigh of relief as McGhee shrugged and began talking business. Her play had been a good one. He was still undecided as to what she was. She was extremely thankful that she had had Sen to practice on all those years as she slipped her hand under the vest tail and kept it there, the dagger in her grasp and ready, while she began the haggle with McGhee and waited for Riddick to make his move.

She was running out of ways to extend the haggle when all hell broke loose. At the first whine of the speakers in what had to be some sort of emergency alarm, the banqueters broke into two groups. Those that Jenna had identified as probably visitors, like herself, immediately started a panicked dash for the exit with cries of 'hull breach' and demands to be taken to their transports while those that were probably permanent inhabitants of the station began turning it into an orderly exit. Jenna took her cue and jumped up with an almost yell to Jeeter that they had to get to their ship.

She had gotten about two steps away from the table when her wrist was captured and she was halted with such force that she almost fell. As she was pulled against his chest, Jenna realized that, while she had done well assessing his mental capabilities, she had seriously under estimated McGhee physically. He was a lot stronger than she had thought.


	38. Chapter 38 A Small Service in a Smal...

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 38 – A Small Service in a Small War

As Jenna was pressed against McGhee, she discovered that what she had taken for pudginess, because of his hands and face, was in fact solid muscle. Not wishing to give him any idea of her own strength, she made the required struggle against his hold an intentionally ineffectual one.

"Let me go, damn it! I'm going to my ship!"

"That's not necessary. It's only a class D alert, a small problem that won't affect the inner sections. You are perfectly safe here."

"I don't give a damn! I'm leaving!"

"I'm afraid that I can't allow that."

The arm around her waist tightened and he let go of her wrist, obviously intending to go for a stunner to calm her down. However, he was out of practice and Jenna wasn't. After a rabbit punch to his kidney and a split-second of struggle, Jenna was behind him, one arm around his throat and her dagger making an unmistakable impression on the 'sweet spot' Riddick had taught her to target.

"I'm afraid that you're going to have to! Now, call off your dogs!"

McGhee wasn't stupid. He waved his men away but not too far away.

"Now, what?" It was a bit strangled but had the sound of a man who thought that he was still in control of the situation. Jenna decided to prove to him that he was wrong. She had Jeeter open the com to the Hole, change to the real security channel, ping it and hold the com so she could use it.

"Jack, disappear and relocate."

The reply was immediate.

"Already done. Anything else?"

"If we're not off of here in twenty minutes, cut this station into scrap metal."

"Already ordered but you've got twenty-five to exit or meet up."

"Keep this channel open. If you hear one wrong sound, warn the others and start cutting immediately. End trans."

McGhee's body had jerked at the revelation that his station was actually being invaded and Jenna's dagger was now definitely cutting into the flesh and outer muscle of his back. Not easing it off one bit, she chinned the com away and answered his question.

"Now, you call the dogs off all the way and the three of us are taking an uninterrupted walk to find the rest of my crew and an equally uninterrupted flight to my ship."

McGhee stiffened. When he spoke, his voice was a bitter rasp.

"If you think the Patrol is getting me that easily, you fucking bitch, you can think again. I'd rather die right here and take you with me!"

That McGhee didn't immediately start struggling or signal his men to attack told Jenna that, while there was no doubt that he would die rather than be taken, he would be open to a deal that involved neither. She followed her first instinct. She laughed. Then she twisted the point of the dagger just a little deeper.

"Call me Patrol again and I'll bleed you just for the insult. You're a hostage, not a prisoner. As soon as my ship is safely away, I'll set you off and even make the call for your people to come and get you."

"Liar."

At this, Jeeter, who had been covering Jenna's back since her first move, chimed in.

"Let him check with Wiggler, Lady, he can tell him who I am. About me working for Tio and all."

McGhee must have recognized the name.

"Even if that's true, all it makes you is the sell out that brought all this down on my neck. Wiggler could be in on it as well."

The stand off was growing thin, when McGhee's com beeped. Taking a chance, Jenna growled at him.

"Answer it! But be careful what you say!"

Whoever was on the other end started talking as soon as McGhee opened the channel.

"We got big trouble, Boss. I've got a twelve-man security squad spread all over the bulkheads in section C, outer rim. No survivors. They were answering an alert on some armed arrivals but there was only supposed to be four of them; not enough to do something like this."

"Any other reports of trouble?"

"No … not that kind."

Jenna gave McGhee a great deal of credit for his next question.

"What weapons were used?"

There was a pause and the sounds of the caller moving about.

"Some disrupter work … … and lethal stun … but mostly gages. No laser work but some wild shots that our guys must have gotten off. … … … Shit, at least three of them got their throats cut from ear to ear."

Jenna couldn't keep herself from smiling at this proof of Riddick's presence on the station. The identities of the other three puzzled her but she didn't have time to work on that as the man continued his report.

"Hell, from the look of this, whoever it was went through them like a hot knife through butter before most of them even knew what was happening. If there were casualties on the other side they didn't leave any bodies behind and this is too much of a slaughter house to tell by blood sign."

"But no other trouble?" McGhee double-checked.

"Like I said, not this kind. I've ordered a full sweep of the station but with all the confusion and my men spread all over the place it's going to take time for the squads to assemble. Do you want a security alert broadcast over the PA?"

McGhee muted the com. "Not Patrol, then. Forces, … no. Spec-Ops?"

Jenna twisted the dagger a bit.

"Wrong again. Just an independent that you shouldn't have fucked with. The we-all-get-to-live-happily-ever-after option is still open. Are you going to take it?"

Jenna was almost shocked by the calm, almost friendly tone of his answer.

"Yes. I believe I will." He opened the com again, his voice hardening. "No, to the alert. Keep everybody between here and section C where they are now but have them move out of the corridors and close the doors behind them. I'll handle this myself."

"But, Boss … "

"Just do it, damn it! I don't want Veller knowing about this."

This last caused Jenna to nudge McGhee with the dagger once more, just a small jab to tell him that she didn't like it. Nor had she missed the fact that he hadn't called off the sweep of the rest of the station. Something was definitely not right here. With a wince, he closed his com and turned his full attention back to her.

"My men are going to get antsy as soon as word gets around about the deaths. Whatever you are going to do now had better be done quickly."

The explanation didn't satisfy Jenna but she saw the wisdom in his warning. After having Jeeter locate the sub-q signals of the incoming party and making sure that McGhee's personal guard was locked in a cloak closet, she and Jeeter moved out with the man pinned between them.

Riddick was beginning to get a bad feeling.

Their entry onto the station had gone just as planned. But, their emergence from the ship armed to the teeth must have set off somebody's alarms because they had run into a large security force just outside of the bay. Still, that hadn't gone bad either. The stupid shit leading the squad had his men in tight formation, blocking each other's line of fire and had yelled out for Riddick's team to halt and identify themselves instead of opening fire immediately.

Rafferty had fought like a good little merc. Syrus had done damn fine, even if his moves were a bit flamboyant for Riddick's taste. This wasn't a fucking pirate vid. Casmir had doggedly done his part though preferring the cleaner kill of the stunner to blood letting. And, the important part, they hadn't suffered any losses of their own. Syrus had the streak of a shallow laser burn across his left side and Rafferty was limping from some edge-of-pattern gage shot in a thigh but that was all.

Now, they were more than halfway to their goal, the sub-q signals, without any further trouble. That was the problem. There should have been more trouble, not an easy trot down empty corridors. Now, the sub-qs were moving. They were moving toward Riddick but that didn't mean it was good. Jenna could have a gun to her head and intended to be used to force a surrender.

Riddick halted the team and spread them out, squatting low to make smaller targets in positions that the enemy might not anticipate. Then he held the tracker-unit in front of him, watching the blips draw nearer as he also watched the intersection in the corridor that they seemed to be headed for. Just as the blips reached that turning, they stopped moving. Riddick tensed, a low growl, that he wasn't even aware of making, vibrating deep in his chest as he waited for the demand he knew was coming.

"Hold your fire, First. We're coming in. We've got a hostage with us."

Jenna's voice! And she had a hostage instead of being one! For a brief second, Riddick felt almost light headed as a swell of pride rushed through him. She hadn't just waited to be rescued. It was followed by a flash of anger that she'd taken risks instead of just waiting. Riddick shoved the schizophrenic emotions away and answered her.

"Come in, but easy."

It was an interesting trio that moved slowly around the corner. Jenna and Jeeter were flanking a rather unimpressive man. But if Jenna took him hostage he must be pretty important and the fact that they each had a stunner held tight against his temples, left and right, suggested that Jenna considered him dangerous enough to need a very nasty threat to control. Though the stunners were non-lethal models, a double jolt from those positions would do a pretty good job of giving him a frontal lobotomy and probably even more serious brain damage. Jenna answered all Riddick's questions by introducing the man.

"First, this is the cause of all our problems; Midas McGhee, the owner of this station."

Damn, when Jenna took hostages, she didn't fool around. Again, Riddick felt that disturbing swell of pride. Then he did a stupid thing. He let personal shit interfere with the mission. As his eyes met Jenna's he let her see that emotion. The look of absolute joy mixed with open lust that he received in return sent a jolt of energy straight to his crotch and a twin bolt to the center of his chest that made his breath catch in his throat. Fuck. He wanted her. Against a wall. Now.

Because of his focus of attention on Jenna, Riddick almost missed the slight movement at the intersection behind her. It made his disrupter shot late. He didn't get the shooter, only managed to make him duck and throw his aim off. The laser beam caught Jeeter high on the shoulder closest to their hostage and the little man dropped like a rock. His hold on McGhee's arm took the man and Jenna down with him.

A lucky break, since a wave of un-aimed shots were thrown around the corner at chest height. Shit! There was more than one shooter and, whoever they were, from the aim of the first shot and the wild spray of the rest it was obvious that they weren't just shooting at the crew of the Hole. They were trying to kill McGhee as well!

Speaking of which, the station owner had broken free of Jeeter's death grip as well as Jenna's and was crawling quickly toward a door in the wall of the corridor. Riddick joined Syrus, Rafferty and Casmir throwing down cover fire to cut down the number of laser beams being thrown at them but kept his eyes on the hostage, intending to stun him as soon as he palmed the door open to give them an escape route.

That didn't happen. As soon as McGhee hit the palm plate, he took Riddick by surprise by reversing direction and crawling back to help Jenna drag Jeeter to safety. There was also another complication. Laser fire was now coming from behind them as well as from the front.

Though this new fire seemed to be aimed at the original shooters rather than the crew of the Hole, you could get killed by either side in a crossfire situation. Riddick motioned the rest to follow McGhee and Jenna as he covered their retreat and was the last man through the door, barely avoiding friendly fire gone wild, or maybe well aimed, as McGhee palmed the door closed behind him.

Riddick was pleased to see that his team were in control of themselves and taking care of business. Now when had that long forgotten response come back to him? Rafferty and Casmir were on guard with disrupter rifles aimed at the now closed door. Casmir had obviously taken Syrus'. What Riddick had taken for an extra ammo pack was instead a compact miracle of miniaturized medical technology and Syrus was kneeling beside Jeeter applying hypos and topical medical treatment to the ravaged piece of meat that had been the little thief's shoulder.

The laser had eliminated any bleeding but the whole area was boiled and bubbled like melted slag and some charred bone was showing. It also looked like the energy had penetrated deep enough to damage lungs, maybe even heart. Riddick couldn't tell if the little man was unconscious or in deep shock, only that he was still alive. Not much mercy in that when or if he woke up. Any thoughts Riddick might have had about revenge for bringing Jenna into this situation disappeared. Jeeter was paying for his mistake in spades.

His attention turned to Jenna. She had a lethal stunner, also probably Syrus', pointed at McGhee and was quietly questioning him.

"That first shot was aimed at you, Midas, and now, from the sound of it, there's a small war out there. What the hell is going on?"

Riddick could finally see what had made this small, seemingly mild man the power that he had become. McGhee didn't blink an eye at the obviously deadly weapon aimed at him and the chaos beyond the closed door. Though Riddick could sense the anger that was boiling within the man, there was no outward sign of it.

"Nothing for you to worry about, sweet Lilly, just a little internal politics. It should be settled quite quickly and we can get on with our business. And, may I compliment you on the efficiency of your crew. Good help is so hard to find."

In contrast to McGhee's cool, Jenna had no problem with letting her anger show.

"That answer doesn't satisfy me. One of my 'efficient crew' is lying here maybe dying from a shot that was meant for you, you son of a bitch! I want better answers! And I want them now! Does this have something to do with that cryptic message of yours about someone named Veller?"

"Probably." McGhee didn't look too happy with Jenna's quick understanding of the situation. "May I suggest that you stick to our business rather than involve yourself in this matter. You would find Veller a great deal less pleasant to deal with than me. He is a rather brutal and stupid man with delusions of abilities that he doesn't possess."

More to give Jenna time to control her anger than anything else, Riddick chuckled evilly, "Better the devil we know?"

McGhee gave him an appraising look and seemed to see beyond the physical. "Exactly, Mr. … ?"

"'First' will do. How strong is that door?"

"Not very. However, my men should be here for us shortly."

As if in answer to this expectation, a fist began banging on the door.

"Boss, it's Hendricks. We've got it under control but we need to get you some place safer. Boss?"

McGhee's eyes shot back and forth between Jenna and Riddick as if unsure who would make the decision concerning this request. Riddick kept silent and saw appreciation in Jenna's eyes as she turned to him.

"Since you had to come in for me, it's your call."

Damn! That admission was going to make it almost impossible for him to chew her out royally for this stupid adventure! Of course, that didn't mean that he wasn't going to try as soon as they were alone. Well, try it if Jeeter lived. Otherwise, he had the feeling that he would be too busy keeping Jenna from disintegrating the station and then herself, at least mentally.

"I'd say we find out what his man has to say about the situation and then decide what we're going to do. But I'd rather just go on the way we are and get our asses off of this junk heap. Maybe McGhee will play nice just to get rid of us and get back to his own problems."

McGhee agreed quickly with a stipulation. "As long as the plan no longer includes taking me off of my station, I will, as you say, play nice."

At a nod from Jenna, Riddick palmed the door, snagged Hendricks, dragged him inside, palmed the door shut and disarmed him; all before the man even knew what was happening. Looking impressed, McGhee immediately prevented his man from making any mistakes by demanding a report on the situation from him.

"It's mostly Veller and his men but he's got the gypsies and a few others with him. I told you we were letting too much space trash hang around, Boss."

The easy way McGhee took this mild censure from Hendricks told Riddick that their association was probably a long one and based on something more than a paycheck.

"Next time I'll listen. Now what are the logistics?"

"We got it under control now top side. We caught on to what they were up to before they got too far. But digging them out of the lower levels is going to be a bitch. If it were just Veller, I'd depressurize the levels but those gypsies got a lot of women and kids. Our men wouldn't like the idea of not being able to get themselves some ready made families."

Riddick saw Jenna flinch at this and leaned in close to whisper to her.

"It's the kids more than the women and they'll probably treat them better than their own do. It's different out here, not like planet-side. Kids are in short supply. They're gold to deep-spacers. Trained up right they're a lot more trustworthy than any other kind of recruit."

Riddick could see the wheels turning behind Jenna's eyes and suddenly realized just how much he might have told her about himself in explaining Hendricks' comment. But, the way she smiled at him kept him from being angry about it. He turned his attention back to the problem at hand.

"So how do we handle this? The new ship first or the BC?"

Syrus answered first.

"The BC. I need to get Jeeter into the healing chamber if he's going to have a chance. It can hold him in stasis until I can get him back to the Hole for surgery and regeneration."

Then Jenna settled it.

"Yes, Jeeter to the BC first. Then Wiggler's bay. We need to load the yacht aboard the BC since she can't find the Hole on her own yet."

Then Hendricks chimed in.

"Boss. Wiggler's bay is behind Veller's backside. It would help if we could get four or five squads in that position before we started the clean up."

To Riddick's dismay, Jenna agreed with the proposition to transport McGhee's men. He was slightly mollified when she demanded that the station owner accompany them rather than sneaking off to some safe hole. That let him see her reasons. Transporting McGhee's men was her way of getting revenge on the other side for Jeeter but she was going to make sure that McGhee risked his own neck in the process.

Hendricks objected but McGhee agreed immediately and seemed a little pissed at his security chief's mother-hening. In fact, the station owner seemed to be positively gleeful at having a good excuse to join in the battle personally. From the competent way he armed himself on their way to the BC, Riddick got the idea that the man had done a lot of his own dirty work on the way to the top and it seemed that he missed it.

The trip to the BC was an easy one though Riddick was nervous being surrounded by squads of McGhee's men. Still, it was those men who cleared the resistance at Wiggler's bay and protected the crew of the Hole until they could get the new yacht loaded and clear the station. Riddick had to give more credit to McGhee as he proved an able commander, not allowing his squad leaders to make the same mistakes that the idiot in the corridor on C level had made.

In the end, Riddick was grateful for the help as it allowed him to handle everything on his end of things. While he knew that Jenna would have been able and willing to take back command, it felt right to be able to let her give in to her softer side and concentrate on the wounded Jeeter. It was a side of her that he hadn't gotten to see enough of yet.

After Syrus had overseen Jeeter's transfer to a stretcher, carried by two of McGhee's men, Jenna had stayed plastered to the little man's side, holding his good hand, checking his vital signs and murmuring constantly in his ear as they rushed him to the BC and into the healing chamber. She didn't leave his side until the BC was safely back home in the bay of the Hole and Syrus and Nagia rushed Jeeter, healing chamber and all, out of the bay toward Syrus' surgery.

The second they were out the door of the bay, Jenna morphed back into the Captain of the Hole, recruiting Sasha and Mira to handle settling the children and Casmir; who, once his mission had been explained, had been given strict orders by Jenna not to approach Mira about it until she could be present. David and Jeff immediately followed Jenna's and then Sasha's orders, like good little puppy dogs, to help with the children.

Mr. Sen wasn't so easy. He had quickly understood that the ships safety took precedent over any explanation to him. However, he wasn't so understanding and lost a lot of his pleasant Buddha smile at Riddick's insistence that Rafferty remain on the bridge with Riddick and Jenna rather than leaving with him. It had slipped even farther when Jenna backed Riddick with no discussion and all but ordered Sen off of the bridge.

What surprised Riddick was that Rafferty backed him as well giving the excuse that he was needed on the bridge to replace Jeeter until they were safely away from the station. Sen left but Riddick could tell by the set of his jaw that he wouldn't be sitting still about it. Riddick quickly set the security system for a close watch on the man.

But the bridge didn't settle down until a panicked Jack was released from duty to go to Jeeter's side. Riddick had to admit to himself that that situation was probably a done deal if the little shit lived and, with a resigned shrug, turned his whole attention on getting the Hole away from the station while Jenna programmed in the plot for the jump that would take them back to new Mecca. He didn't notice the hateful look that Ben threw at Jack as she rushed away.

It wasn't long before Jenna transferred the location of the gate they were going to use to Riddick's nav console but they were in a holding pattern until they got the go ahead from Syrus. It wasn't just a matter of his finishing the surgery on Jeeter and preparing the hyper meds for everyone. They might not be able to make the jump for quite a while after that since it depended on Jeeter's condition and it improving until he could take the hyper meds safely.

As soon as the Hole was well away from the station, set into a good position to approach the gate correctly and all outer security systems were working at optimal, Riddick relaxed, waiting for Jenna to finish entering the hyper plot.

This pause was interrupted briefly by a call from McGhee. He reassured them that he was now well in control of his station once more and that, in return for their aid, his station would always be open to them in the greatest of safety. He seemed rather disappointed that he was not allowed to speak to 'sweet Lilly' personally.

For his part, Riddick was rather disappointed that the man was still walking and talking. He was considering what a cold day in hell it would be before he let that smarmy little shit anywhere near Jenna again when she finally locked down the hyper nav and looked up at him. Getting straight to business, he threw a nod toward Rafferty.

"Captain, you should know that part of this merc's deal with Sen was to get rid of me on New Mecca."

The bomb dropped, Riddick relaxed back to watch the fun.


	39. Chapter 39 Pieces of Homecoming

Warning: Love scene in this one. The wording isn't extremely graphic but for those who don't care for that as soon as they start kissing please skip down to the next scene break " ((SCENE BREAK)) ". (I am writing it in now because FF doesn't seem to like strings of cute little symbols anymore.)

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 39 – Pieces of Homecoming

Perhaps Jenna had been forewarned by Riddick's demand to keep the merc on the bridge. Her expression hardly changed as she turned to Ben and sent him off to begin analyzing the yacht's com and computer system and plan the refitting it would need. However, it was ice as she took a long minute to stare at Rafferty before turning back to Riddick.

"Then why is he still alive?"

Rafferty knew he had paled at Riddick's accusation. Now he felt his face go positively ghostly at the steely razor edge in Jenna's voice. Riddick's chuckle as he answered Jenna didn't do one thing to release the cold that was clutching at his chest.

"Because Syrus says that his people are important to the colony and thinks that he can be convinced of the error of his ways. He did good on the station."

"I see." Jenna turned back to Rafferty. "Well?"

Rafferty's attention flashed back and forth between Riddick and Jenna. God have mercy. The one small difference in the hard eyes and closed faces of the two was the hint of a sneer on Riddick's lips, an almost warmth of emotion compared to the other. Still, this and the fact that the man had given him something of a good word didn't give the merc much relief as he stared into the woman's unrelenting focus on him.

For the first time Rafferty really believed what Syrus had told him about the true nature of the young woman that he had so easily and stupidly seen as a naïve pawn. For reasons that he didn't want to analyze, she was suddenly more frightening than the hulking convict. He became convinced that, if he answered her with anything but the absolute truth, he was a dead man.

"I wanted the life that the colony offers. I was willing to do anything I had to to get it. Mr. Sen convinced me that Riddick had you under his control and intended to highjack the ships; that the only way to make certain the colony happened was to … to kill him."

"And now?"

Nothing changed in the woman's face. Rafferty had no clue as to what answer she expected from him; what answer would keep him from taking a short walk out of a pressure port or bleeding out on the deck under his feet as quickly as the few steps it would take her to reach him.

"Now, Syrus is telling me that Sen is a manipulating bastard who will try and use the colony as his own personal kingdom, that you are the only one that can keep him from doing that and I had better throw in on your side if I don't like the idea of a future as a lab rat. He also says that your … … that your 'association' with Riddick is … … that you take his advice only if it's something that you want to do anyway."

"Got that right."

The low rumble from Riddick sent a small smile skittering across Jenna's lips. To Rafferty, it was like the heavens had open and Athena, the goddess of wisdom, had come down and slapped him up the side of the head with a sledgehammer. All of the blind, prejudiced labels, that were all he could see of Riddick since Sen had revealed his identity, began to look frayed and clichéd and Rafferty caught the briefest glimpse of what Jenna, and incidentally Syrus, must see in the man.

Rafferty could also see the reality and the depth of the relationship between the man and woman sitting before him as well as just how oddly suited they seemed for each other. He also began to believe just how deeply the woman had participated in the raid on the compound when he had been taken. Between wondering how he could have been so stupid before and why he was still breathing now, he almost missed Jenna's next question to him.

"What is your present attitude about all that and what do you intend to do about it?"

Any softness that Riddick's comment had engendered was gone and Rafferty once more faced an implacable female sphinx. A bit of his red-headed mother's temper flared side by side with the dread and hopelessness of his situation.

"If I hadn't already pretty well burned my bridges on this one, I'd like to take Syrus' advice and throw in with you. But, since that isn't possible, I'd give anything to never have met up with this psycho circus."

To Rafferty's surprise, Jenna laughed; a deep, throaty, extremely pleasant laugh. More surprising, it even lit her eyes briefly.

"Yes, I'm certain that you would. However, Syrus is quite right about the value your people will bring to the colony and I can accept what he says about Max as well."

Her expression became thoughtful and Rafferty wasn't sure that she was seeing him anymore as her attention seemed to turn inward.

"I do not believe that your assistance, personally, is completely necessary for that partnership to occur but success is assured with it. While any plans Max might have for the colony won't interfere excessively with my plans for my future, it would still be in my best interests to have a stable, productive home port. Nor do I wish to see some of his more bazaar theories tested out on any group of people.

"However, it would interfere with my plans to be required to personally watch-dog Max. Since with the proper training, which it seems Syrus has already begun, I am sure that you could be a trusted ally for the purpose of safeguarding the future of your people as a free society, your continued existence is beneficial to my self-interest. Bridges can be rebuilt for such substantial incentives even if such rebuilding will be difficult."

Now, Jenna's focus returned to Rafferty with such force it was almost a physical assault.

"On our first meeting, I gave you the opportunity to save your men and you have returned that with an attempt to murder one of mine. I will not easily forgive that. You have made a good start with your actions on the station and briefly with Mr. Sen but it will be a long time before you earn anything more than an uneasy truce.

"If you are willing to make the effort to do that, I will need a Security and Weapons Officer until Jeeter is fully recovered and a second for that position after that. Be aware that this will make you ship's crew and any further disloyalty, to either myself or my First Officer, will be legally considered mutiny with no question of my right to kill you in any way I see fit. I will give you two days to decide if you will accept the crew position or not."

Then with a twitch of her head toward a hatch at one side of the bridge she stood up, "Now, since Syrus is occupied, if you will follow me to the bunk room, I'll see what I can do about your injury with the first-aid kit there."

The quick change of topic threw Rafferty. Jenna was almost through the indicated door before he realized that the discussion was over and that she was actually offering to treat the gage-shot wounds in his leg; wounds that he had forgotten about in the adrenalin rush during the battle and hurried trip to safety and again in his anxiety after Riddick's denouncement but that came back into painful awareness as he struggled to rise and then limped after her.

As she calmly and rather gently went about slitting his trouser leg then cleaning, locally anesthetizing, extracting shot pellets, medicating and bandaging his leg, Rafferty couldn't get his mind wrapped around exactly what was going on. After a preventative hypo against infection and one for pain, she left him stretched out on a bunk with instructions to 'get some sleep'. But his thoughts were in too much of a whirl to do that immediately.

Hell, she'd cut to the bone of it with that comment about saving his men and what she'd gotten in return. But that wasn't the half of it. Riddick wasn't just a member of her crew. He was her lover. Now, she was going to give Rafferty, a man who had fully intended to murder him, a chance to prove he'd changed loyalties? Let him choose to become a member of her crew to do that? All this when she didn't think that he was necessary to get his people into the colony and when she didn't have any real stake in how the colony was run anyway?

And what was that threat about being crew making it 'legal' to kill him? The situation they were all in, any legalities were a totally moot point. Still, it seemed important to her; just as financing the court battles for the Institute and the status of the colony as properly registered had been for Sen, a man who had engineered this whole criminal-by-any-interpretation operation.

Then there was the fact that Jenna sounded a lot like Riddick had when he had handed him back over to Syrus, supposedly for the good of a colony that the convict had no intentions of living in. And that similarity between the two was the most puzzling thing for the merc in the whole twisted mess.

The woman? Yeah he could understand someone of her class, her education, thinking like that; thinking about more than herself. But Riddick? Murdering scum spawned by the dregs of society, scum like Rafferty had grown up around as his parents had worked themselves to the bone to pay his way out, scum that had murdered his parents and his two younger sisters before he could get them out too; scum that had always been nothing but unredeemable animals, nothing but meat for money to Rafferty.

Yet Riddick had been right there on an even level with Syrus, too, about what Sen could do to the colony. Also, according to Syrus, Riddick had taken care of him, as best he could, in Sulleman's dungeons; putting himself between Syrus and some of the worst of an enraged guard's blows, sharing his own body heat to keep him alive. Then, during the raid on the station, he had taken the dangerous point position, protecting the rest of them, when Rafferty had never known a squad leader who didn't put himself in the safer middle of the squad.

The last thought in Rafferty's mind, as he finally drifted into sleep, was that his universe had suddenly been turned inside out and he wasn't sure that he was up to dealing with that, even for as golden a prize as the colony.

((SCENE BREAK)) ((SCENE BREAK))

As Jenna returned to the bridge, she took time to savor the image of Riddick as he concentrated on the vid screen of his security console; her strong, beautiful lover, returned to her safe and sound. As a terrible, aching joy squeezed her heart, she knew that no matter how short their time together might be, she would thank the fates for every second of it until the day she breathed her last. Though, she did have a few cross words for those same fates for leaving them trapped on the bridge, far from the comfortable bedroom of her quarters, until all the various crises could be dealt with. With a resigned sigh, she turned toward the command slot.

She had barely taken two steps when a strong arm wrapped around her waist, another caught her behind the knees and she was effortlessly lifted against Riddick's broad, hard chest. Storm sea captured sunlight sea as each sought the other's soul through their eyes. A whispered growl, "Lights, ten percent", and silver shine met silver shine and drank each other in.

Jenna moaned in protest when Riddick broke the eye contact and focused on watching where he was going as he carried her the rest of the way to the command slot. He answered her with a leer and a chuckle as he seated himself in the slot and cuddled her into his lap.

"Ain't no use having this expensive monster if you don't use it right, sweet thing."

With a flip of his fingers across the console, Riddick locked off the bridge hatches. His mouth closed over hers; hard, demanding yet pliable, giving; all at the same time. How in the hell did he do that? The question vanished as Jenna mewed and melted into the heat of their combined need.

Hands ghosted over her. Fingers manipulated zips, buttons; boots and socks, long vest, weapons belt, trousers, and finally panties; all seemed to dissolve off of her body in a haze of arousing touches. Then her halter shirt was unfastened and slipped off of her shoulders and down her arms. But not removed. No. Left at her wrists to pin her hands at the sides of her hips as he rolled them over, to lay her on her back on the now reclined chair, and loomed over her.

Then lips, teeth, tongue and hot breath joined his hands; stroking, nipping, laving, pinching, sucking, massaging, revealing, invading, capturing, liberating. Giving her every pleasure she could imagine but one, the pleasure of touching him in return. Not only did he keep her hands from touching him but any other part of her body from touching his, skin on skin, as he remained fully clothed. And that one denied pleasure became insatiable need that drove her wild.

And he kept it that way, her magnificent bastard. With evil laughter in his eyes and on his lips, he foiled every attempt, every mad struggle, she made to free her hands from the binding material. Driving that fire higher and higher. Taking his pleasure not only from her body but also from the power he held over it. And, perverse as it was to her nature, she also reveled in his power, his control of her; her ability to finally trust someone with that kind of control.

Only when she was well beyond any coherent thought, did he finally free her hands, remove his shirt and lift her to ride skin on skin, chest to chest as he knelt on the deck and finally took her; sheathing himself completely with one deep thrust.

She screamed with a shattering climax, dropped her feet to the deck and rode him madly; her spasming channel quickly tearing his own release from him with a guttural snarl.

((SCENE BREAK)) ((SCENE BREAK))

Maximus Sen was not a happy man. However, he was not a totally unhappy one, either. True, his immediate plans were in total chaos but that was not actually due to any error on his part. Mob psychology was his forte, not individual psychology, and the man, Riddick, was too much of an individual to be plotted with the first and certainly turning out to be an enigma as far as the second was concerned. It occurred to Max that he really should have paid more attention to Jenna's opinions about the man those several years ago when she had first gone off the deep end about him. Not because of any thought that he might actually have need to interact with him but because of what it would have told him about Jenna herself.

Max had decided that Riddick was not the true problem. He was now convinced that, had it not been him, it would have been someone very much like him that Jenna would have chosen to seek out. The problem was Jenna, herself, and Max's overconfidence in his knowledge of and control over her. After all, individual psychology was her area of expertise and he really shouldn't have attempted to play her at her own game.

Now, of course, he would have to secure another 'protégé' with that expertise to balance his lack but that should not be a problem as soon as other refuges from Institute facilities joined the colony. In fact, that would be even better. If he were to make sure that his choice was of the higher IQ and higher fragility of a proper inmate of the Institute, there would be a much lower possibility of finding the unexpected vein of independence that had finally surfaced in Jenna.

Yes, he could see that this was actually working out for the best. While that independence had been of great use to him while making the preparations for the exodus, it would never have served him once the colony was established. That Jenna would now voluntarily clear the way for a better candidate and remove herself from the daily functioning of the colony, thus not becoming a constant check on him, was much to his advantage.

Also, he had to admit that the population aboard the ship was just too small for a proper wielding of his own strong suit. He had foolishly allowed his emotions, his personal attachment to the child, to influence him and had been quite premature and nearsighted in his manipulation of Rafferty against Jenna. He would now revert to his original plan, allowing Jenna to see to everything involved in the establishment of the colony and applying himself to the machinations necessary to use the benefactor's original will to get it declared the one and only legal Institute facility with himself as its Director.

Once that was done, he would have no need of her and her ships and the ungrateful child could go to the devil for all he cared. Of course, until then, he was going to have to work very hard at making peace with her.

He was also going to have to find out what had prevented Rafferty from disposing of Riddick and caused the merc's obvious defection into Jenna's camp. His relationship with Rafferty would also need to be repaired or the man eliminated if necessary to insure he would not become another interference in Max's plans for the colony. However, Max couldn't imagine the latter becoming a serious possibility, the merc was really such a simple creature.

Satisfied that he would have everything and everyone well under control in a very short time, Maximus Sen retired to his bed to enjoy a peaceful sleep, sweetened by the dreams of the perfect world he was building for himself.

((SCENE BREAK)) ((SCENE BREAK))

Ben was ass deep in the consoles of the new yacht, adding parts and rewiring her to schematics written only in his head. He should have been ecstatic, euphoric, a puppy up to his molars in his masters favorite slippers. He wasn't. He was sad and angry and confused. Nothing was working out as he had been promised it would or had thought it would. And every day it got worse.

Jenna was lost to him forever. Just because he couldn't tolerate hyper and really didn't even have the reflexes to be a Keller pilot either, she had to go looking for a back-up pilot and she had found Riddick. And Ben had liked him; had felt the same strength in him, had the same trust in him that only Jenna had ever given him before. Riddick had changed Jenna and taken her away from him and yet Ben still liked him. Ben hated that. He had liked some of the men his mother had brought home, too. But it never made any difference; he couldn't see himself in his mother's eyes again until they had disappeared like the others that he didn't like and had done things to.

Part of him had wanted Mr. Sen's plan for getting rid of Riddick to work but deep inside he had known that it wouldn't, that the redheaded merc was no match for anyone who could capture Jenna. So it was really no shock to Ben to see the big man again. After all, Mr. Sen's other plan had been a bust, too.

When Ben had found the tarantula during one of the initial system checks and reported it to Mr. Sen, the man had promised him that finding and disabling it after they had made their first hyper jump, when it would be recognized as a real threat, would make Ben a hero in Jenna's eyes. But that had been ruined when that bint, Sasha, had put that stupid 'toy' tracker in the hold. All his finding of the tarantula had been was another problem among the many and he'd had to cover why he hadn't found it before as well. Then, Mr. Sen had made him tamper with the security tapes and records so that he couldn't even get the glory of revealing the bitch's treachery to Jenna.

That plan had also brought his next two problems onboard, Jack and Mira. He had seen the looks from Jenna, the same as his mother had given him whenever she thought she had found him some playmates to take his mind off of the fact that she was ignoring him again for some man. He had known that Jack was a problem from the first. Sure, she had been ok to talk to about hacker stuff but anything else and she was off with that little shrimp thief that came with Riddick. All she had ever been to Ben was someone else coming between him and Jenna, someone who could take his place on the bridge of the Hole while he was left behind on the stupid colony to do 'more important' work, make things that would sell.

Mira had been different. She was awfully pretty and so interested in anything he had to say. It had been really nice. He had begun to think that for once maybe he could be 'normal' like Jenna was always promising him; have a girlfriend; maybe even a wife, someone who couldn't leave him. And with the threat of Sulleman hanging over her, Ben could certainly make sure that Mira would be too afraid to do that.

But, now, that dream was falling apart, too. Ben had overheard what Jenna had told Mira; that Riddick had killed Sulleman and that the tall, dark New Meccan he had brought back with him was a Prince who wanted to marry her. With the threat of Sulleman gone, what chance did Ben have against a handsome, rich man from Mira's own people? Rich had always worked quicker than handsome for his mother, even though most of them had been lying about it.

Ben viciously threw a valuable circuit board against the bulkhead. The rain of expensive confetti didn't do much to brighten his mood. He doubted that anything less than turning the hyper engines of the Hole into a small nova would accomplish that right now. However, 'suicidal' had never been one of the diagnoses on his chart. He would just have to come up with some less drastic way to revenge himself. At least he wasn't letting it throw him into one of his black rages. That must mean that he was making progress of some sort toward 'normal'.

With that comforting thought Ben went back to work on the consoles of the yacht.

((SCENE BREAK)) ((SCENE BREAK))

Syrus made the final adjustments on the healing chamber. The surgery had been extremely delicate yet had required the utmost speed to minimize the horrific aftereffects as much as possible. The events of the past few days had hardly left him in an optimal condition for such an exhausting task. He was basically on his last legs both physically and mentally as he left Nagia to watch over Jeeter and crossed the surgery to perform the physician's duty that he hated above all others, the confrontation with the 'family'.

Though Riddick's 'little sister' had no legal connection to his patient, the drawn and tear stained face that she turned toward him left no doubt that he was indeed facing that most detested situation. Nor were her reactions anything but further proof for the pudding.

"Please, … … ?" Her own voice seemed to strangle her and Syrus took the initiative.

"He will live."

Of course, she couldn't settle for that. They never could.

"His arm, his hand … ?"

More, they always wanted more. Why couldn't Jenna be here to handle this like she should be?

"He has them still. How useful they will be is not something I will speculate upon at this time."

Jack grabbed at her belt buckle and then suddenly attacked him. The swiftness and ferocity of it more than compensated for her much smaller stature and weight. Syrus found himself backed against his desk with a very dangerous looking straight blade only inches from his eyes.

"Do you see this! Jeeter makes these! He's making them for all of us and a beautiful jeweled collar one for Jenna. This is his craft, his dream, his heart. If you can't save his hand, how will he live without his heart??!"

Well, this was certainly different. It was also something Syrus could deal with much better than those damnable tears.

"I've done all that I can do now. There may be more that I can do later. However, maiming me will not do anything to help with that. I suggest that you could put your time to better use considering ways to give him new 'heart' should my efforts not be sufficiently successful. I'm sure an intelligent, beautiful young woman, like yourself, will be able to think of something."

As Jack pulled back from him with a thoughtful look on her face, Syrus thanked the powers-that-be for Riddick's obviously superior taste in 'sisters'. His relief grew as an expression of determination and a small smile reshaped her face.

"Thank you, Doctor. I'll be all right now. It's all going to be all right now!"

Syrus let out a short sigh as he watched Jack walk away to join Nagia in the vigil over Jeeter. Taking a decanter of guaranteed-to-kill-brain-cells whiskey from his desk, he forced his body to remain upright and moving long enough to reach his 'garden'. After setting the panorama to full night with lots of stars and a quarter moon and taking several fiery swigs of the liquor, he began to drift into sleep.

A wicked smile twisted his lips as he wondered if he would dream of creamy skin and red hair or massive tawny biceps and a clean-shaven skull. Either would be quite enjoyable and you couldn't get bruises for dreaming, now could you?


	40. Chapter 40 Dealing With Business

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 40 – Dealing with Business

Jenna awakened cuddled close to Riddick's comforting warmth. It took her a few seconds to realize that they weren't in the large, soft bed of her quarters but in the command slot of the bridge instead. However, as she shifted against its almost as comfortable cushioning and snuggled even deeper into Riddick's embrace, she made a mental note that she must remember to send the manufacturer of this particular piece of equipment a glowing product recommendation. Then she laughed softly at the thought that the use she could recommend it for wouldn't exactly be fit for any advertisements. She felt Riddick's answering chuckle, rumbling through his chest, before she heard it.

"I like a woman who wakes up laughing." Then with a pat to her bottom, "You better get dressed, sweet thing. They've been buzzing the internal com for a couple of hours. I muted that but they'll be pounding on the hatches next."

As the fact that she was buck-naked on the bridge of her ship pierced Jenna's still somewhat muzzy awareness, she could feel the heat spreading across her skin. Riddick's next comment just made it worse.

"And I really like a woman who blushes all over."

With a snarl somewhat like that of an angry kitten that embarrassed her even more, she scrambled out of the slot, snatched up her clothing and escaped into the galley. She didn't have to look back to know that Riddick was smirking at her but at least he had the decency not to laugh out loud. She just might have had to start plotting some revenge if he had. Damn it was gooooood to have him back.

After using the galley sink for a quick spit-bath, that left her still feeling grimy, and getting dressed, Jenna dialed herself a cup of coffee, downed half of it in several large gulps, refilled it, dialed another for Riddick and did her best to look calm, cool and collected as she strolled back onto the bridge. It helped a great deal that she found Riddick also fully dressed, sitting in the pilot slot, and the command slot returned to its proper configuration. When she handed him his coffee, he immediately got down to ship's business.

"I've checked on Jeeter. From what Jack can read of Syrus' medical shorthand, he won't be fit to make a jump for at least a week. In the Forces, we jumped with casualties in the chambers but more than half of 'em didn't survive it. I figured you wouldn't like those odds but I don't like hanging out this close to McGhee's station for that long."

He motioned at the nav section of his console. "I know this area of space pretty well and I've plotted us a Keller course that will get us to another gate, a legally registered one, in just a little more time than that. With the legs we've got, it won't do anybody any good to try and come after us. That gate will take us a double jump and a little more Keller time in between gates to get back to New Mecca but we'll come out on the other side of the system and I like that. I don't think that it would be a good idea to pop out there at the spot McGhee or anybody else at the station will expect us to."

Jenna controlled her joy at Jeeter's survival. She found Riddick's matter-of-fact treatment of the subject very stabilizing. It kept the guilt she felt, that it had been her recklessness that had caused the little man's injuries, at bay. She was quite sure that if Riddick had included the words 'still alive' or 'not dead', she would have been awash with it.

She also hid her amusement at Riddick's fairly obvious personal dislike of McGhee. She hadn't been unaware of the short com conversation between them and of Riddick's dark scowl at McGhee's offer of future hospitality to 'sweet Lilly'. In fact, she had taken the precaution of copying the co-ordinates of the station and of the illegal gates and jump plots to a security locked file, her voice only, just in case Riddick decided to erase them from the main nav records. While she had no desire to ever see the two-faced, aggravating McGhee again, one never knew what information might come in handy in an emergency. As for Riddick's plan and course plot, she had no reservations at all.

"Do it. Is there anything else I need to know before I open the internal com?"

"Only that the merc left for his quarters while you were in the galley. He said to tell you that he'd like to join the crew, if the offer is still open. I've put him on the same high priority security scan as Sen and locked and keyed both reports to our voices only. I put in a speck for tight-focus visual and audio recording on both of them whenever they are anywhere near each other or com each other. And I set an automatic flag if they seem to be talking to someone else in the crew within an hour or so of each other too often. That should tell us if they set up someone else as a go-between.

"You should also know that he's a pilot, Keller for sure. I don't know about hyper. He took the meds when I jumped the BC but that could have been just for show."

Jenna gave a silent prayer of gratitude for every paranoid bone in Riddick's body as she officially ok'ed the new security settings. Thinking that he was finished she turned toward the command slot only to have him swivel his chair to face her as she settled into it. By the scowl on his face, she knew that he really didn't want to tell her whatever was coming next.

"There's something else. Something that Rafferty said has been bothering me. He said that Sen wasn't worried about the tracker in the bay. Syrus seemed to think that meant that Sen knew who had planted it and had already done something about it. Those things come with a remote monitor and, as soon as we blocked it, someone should have tried to check it out. But we got nothing on the security system watching it. I'm beginning to wonder if Sen didn't do something to the system to cover it up."

"But Max doesn't have the talent for that. Only … … only Ben does."

"Yeah. That's why I'd like to open access to those records through the infirmary terminal and have Jack work on it. She's not a super-brain like Ben but she's damn good. She could monitor the reports on Rafferty and Sen too while she's at it. Maybe see something that the automatic flags might miss. But that means that we have to clue her in on most of what's going on."

Suddenly, now that it involved Ben, Riddick's paranoia didn't seem such a blessing. She realized that he was reading her too well when he continued speaking.

"Hell, sweet thing, I'm probably seeing things that ain't. But even if I'm not, it isn't the kid's fault. Sen's one sneaky bastard. He could've made the kid think that he was protecting you just like he did with Rafferty and the colony. Anyway, if it turns out to be a bust, it'll still give Jack something to do to get her mind off of worrying about Jeeter and give us another pair of eyes watching Sen and the merc."

God! Jenna hated to admit it, really hated to admit it, but Riddick was almost certainly not 'seeing what ain't'. Ben would be the easiest of the group for Max to manipulate and the only one of the bridge crew that he would have any chance of using. Shit! Shit!! SHIT!!!! And it was all Jenna's fault!

She had been warned by Ben's reaction to her manner of dress when everyone had first boarded the Hole. It had been a red flag that his mental state was a great deal more fragile than she had thought; that the ghosts of his early childhood were still too much in control of him. But, she had been too busy being 'Captain' to be 'Therapist'. She had allowed his seemingly improved attitude, from whatever Riddick had said to him, to smother the natural instincts that would have recognized that warning. And that was another red flag.

As cold, clinically cold, as it was, Jenna had to admit that she was no longer fit to fulfill the role of therapist for Ben. She had broken the cardinal rule with him, allowing him to become attached and not breaking that but instead returning it with a personal attachment of her own. She had allowed her own need for his improvement to delude her into seeing more than there was.

But, as she focused that clinical cold even deeper, she realized that, perhaps, she was no longer fit to be a therapist for anyone. She was tired of it. She had spent the last fourteen years doing it and she was exhausted with it, quite possibly totally burned out with it. She wanted to see people as people, not patients. She wanted personal attachments. She wanted to be 'Captain' not yoyo. Hell, yes! For once she wanted to be selfish. She wanted a life of her own choosing.

Of course, she was obligated to find Ben a new therapist and to do the best by him as a 'friend' and 'older sister' until then but she had an equal, perhaps even greater, obligation as Captain of her ship. She pulled herself out of her contemplation and spoke to Riddick.

"You had best add Ben to that comprehensive security scan and direct it to Jack as well. I'll leave it to your discretion how much you tell her. I would recommend telling her everything but you know better than I do how much she can deal with."

Riddick simply nodded at this and turned back to his console. However, Jenna noticed that it took only one keystroke to initiate the scan on Ben and another to open the security system to the infirmary terminal. This proof that Riddick had intended to do both, whether she agreed to them or not, should have angered her but she refused to allow her emotions to cloud her intellect any further than they already had. He would have been damn right to do just that. It was what she had hired him to do. She might be legally the Captain of the Hole but it would be a long time before she had the experience and training to back up that legality.

Giving him a small smile to say 'I know what you did', she turned her attention to the internal com. Sorting the voice-mail messages by sender, she was somewhat surprised by what she found: one from Max, one from Syrus, one from Mira and eight from Sasha? She took them in order of priority, her priorities.

Syrus' contained only a reference tag to Jeeter's medical file and a warning that if anyone disturbed him in less than twenty-four hours, he would "commit justifiable homicide on the miscreant". Jenna made a quick scan of the file and was both elated and disheartened. Syrus had preformed a major miracle with his surgery in saving Jeeter's life and another in saving his arm but the prognosis for Jeeter's recovering even minimal use of it and his hand was dim at best. Jenna could only hope that Jeeter was as tough a survivor as she thought him to be and salve her disappointment, and guilt, with her confidence in Syrus' ability to find another miracle in subsequent treatments.

The next message she opened was Mira's. It was an announcement that she and Casmir had begun negotiations and a request to discuss this with Jenna. There was also an assurance that Casmir had not broken his word to Jenna as Mira had initiated the discussion of the matter herself. This was followed by an apology for doing so that was qualified by the statement that Mira was only doing what Jenna had advised her to do in taking active responsibility for her own future. With a swell of pride at the young woman's blossoming independence, even from her, Jenna answered with a voice-mail stating that she would be available any time Mira wished to come to the bridge.

Max's was next. On the surface, it seemed like nothing but a fatherly expression of his relief at her safe return and curiosity as to the details of her adventure and an apology that he had not been as available to her for the little talks they both so enjoyed because of his overly enthusiastic focus on matters concerning the Institute and the colony. Her snide chuckle at this brought a questioning look from Riddick.

"Max is worried. He's sending feelers out for a ceasefire and treaty negotiation already. I would say that he is probably planning on 'playing nice' until after we have arrived at the colony. But make sure we have full security reports on all com traffic both outgoing and incoming and are still on alert for any non-system transmissions. And secure and lock those reports to voice only; you, me and Jack. Then lock off the security systems settings with an alarm to go to you or me, wherever we are, if anyone tries to access them without one of us pre-authorizing it."

"Already got the last one done but I'll recheck the com security levels and transmissions alert and lock and secure them. Don't look so pissed at yourself. You're learning fast. When do you plan on meeting with Sen?"

"Not for a day or so and then here, on my ground."

"Like I said, you're learning fast."

With that compliment creating a hot little glow at her center, Jenna recorded and sent a 'nice' but firm message to Max denying him any meeting until she had finished dealing with her duties as Captain. She purposely gave him no indication as to when that might be. Then she turned to the sheaf of mails from Sasha.

They started out with a rant about all the extra work "that herd of children" was going to cause her that had been recorded almost immediately after she had been assigned their care. Next, recorded several hours later, was another rant but questioning why Syrus wasn't available to give "these sweet, mistreated babies" full medical exams, immunizations and "god only knows what other care they desperately need". The rest were requests for various supplies: toys and crafts materials, opening the woodworking pod for properly sized furniture, opening the metalworking pod for proper play equipment and allocating at least half of the gymnasium area for its installation, etc, etc, etc.

By the singing spheres! The woman had a hidden maternal instinct a mile wide and Jenna had completely missed it! Of course, any information Jenna had ever had on the woman had been gathered from only superficial conversation and personal observation as Sasha would have rather cut her own throat than participate in any formal testing.

Setting aside that can of worms for a while, Jenna accessed the tailor pod to authorize the proper uniforms for Rafferty only to find that the machine was working at maximum capacity. Jenna didn't have to be clairvoyant to figure out the reason for that. Keying the security system to give her both visual and audio in the pod, she found herself watching Sasha, surrounded by the children, doing an excellent imitation of Mother Goose as she help them select styles, colors and fabrics for even more garments than those currently pushing the tailoring machine into overload. The fact that she and the children didn't share a common language didn't seem to be slowing her down one bit. In fact, there seemed to be mutual language lessons occurring along with the shopping.

Widening her view of the pod, Jenna discovered both David and Jeff in the background looking exhausted and somewhat shell-shocked. On closer inspection, she saw that Jeffie was also looking angry and bored while David sported a bemused smile. Focusing the visual back on Sasha, Jenna cut the security audio and opened the com speaker in the pod.

"Good morning, Sasha. Could you please pause your input for just a moment. Red Rafferty is joining the crew and I need to authorized his uniforms."

The blond started at the unexpected intrusion but quickly complied with Jenna's request. As soon as she had entered the authorization, with the proper quantities, Jenna made another one.

"Would you mind contacting him, getting his measurements programmed and putting this at the head of the manufacturing cue?"

Jenna was pleasantly surprised at the enthusiasm that showed in both Sasha's voice and face. It was a nice change from the put-upon expression that she usually received from her.

"I already have his measurements because of the costume dinners. I'll start the uniforms immediately and have them taken to his quarters."

"I'll take them." This interruption by Jeff was almost shocking. He must really be at the end of his tether to volunteer for delivery duty to escape. From the semi-sweet smile Sasha threw him, it seemed that she was well at the end of hers with him. Hummmmm, it might be a good bet that the dynamics of the 'terrible trio' could be in for a change.

But a real, though slightly anxious, smile graced Sasha's face as she addressed Jenna again.

"I don't want to be a bother, but have you had a chance to check the messages I left you?"

Jenna had to cover her mouth to prevent a snicker from escaping and was very glad that the visual wasn't two-way.

"Yes, I have and I'm very impressed with the way you are taking care of the children. I'll have the pods you requested opened immediately and you can do anything you want about the gym and any other areas of the ship. But I'm afraid that the medical checkups will have to wait until later. Syrus had a rather rough time of it on New Mecca and the surgery for Jeeter was a bitch. He's threatening bloody retribution if he's disturbed for the next day or so. I'll leave him a message to soften him up for you but we'll just have to wait until he's ready. Until then, if there is anything serious, I'll try to fill in for him."

The anxiety that had faded from Sasha's face was now back.

"No. There's nothing serious. But … well, … could you … could you please erase any messages I left for Syrus while you're sending him yours? I … "

Jenna decided to save the petite blond any further embarrassment.

"No problem. I'll be happy to. I know how easily he can take things wrong. You just continue with the wonderful job you are doing for the children and let me worry about Syrus. Oh, and don't worry about the weekly dinners or meals for anyone but the children. Everyone else can make do for themselves, until we can get all the rest sorted out."

Sasha was absolutely preening.

"I do appreciate not having to deal with the dinners until I have the necessary remodeling done but the regular evening meals for everyone will be no problem at all since I'll be doing them for the children anyway. I'll see that trays get delivered to any one who can't make it to the dinning room as well."

"That's very thoughtful of you, Sasha. Feel free to ask me for anything else you might need. Captain out."

As Jenna cut the com she heard a disgruntled snort from Riddick. She answered it while she unlocked the pods Sasha required.

"Better sugar than vinegar."

"Then they'd better be glad they're dealing with you and not me, sweet thing. Now, what's next?"

"I guess we both raid our quarters and move into the bunk room."

"Wrong answer. That cushy command slot may be ok in a pinch but those bunks are strictly singles. I want a regular bed to chase you around and that whore-house bathtub of yours to relax in. We go twelve on and twelve off with Jack, Mira and the merc covering the other shift. Then, we take Ben on shift with us when he gets through with the yacht."

Jenna thought about this while she erased Sasha's rather vitriolic messages to Syrus and recorded her own, more politic one, in their place.

"Don't you think that is being a little too trusting of Rafferty too soon?"

"Nope. I plan on telling both of the girls just where he stands and those two little hellcats will shred him if he makes one wrong move. Besides, I figure that Casmir will be a number one chaperon. Rafferty didn't get on his good side at all on New Mecca."

Considering this, Jenna decided that it would work out well and for reasons other than giving her and Riddick quality time to themselves. One, Rafferty would be more inclined to show his true colors, black or white, if he thought he wasn't being watched as closely. Two, it would give her more time with Ben to see just how badly all this was effecting him and to try and rebuild the 'family' relationship between them. Three, it would give Casmir a chance to observe Mira performing her bridge duties which would prove to him that she was accomplished at a lot more than needlework.

In that same vein, Jenna decided to make sure that both she and Riddick continued Mira's weapons and defense classes at least three times a week while the other covered the bridge and Rafferty. Jack would be included in the classes, of course, but the main purpose would be to give Casmir a good understanding of what his Princess was becoming.

"All right. But make it very clear to Rafferty that Jack holds the command slot. And make sure that Jack knows that she is to sit in it to prove it to him. No exceptions. Also schedule an hour three times a week for one of us to continue Jack's and Mira's weapons training while the other covers the bridge. That will keep Casmir from becoming bored while he chaperones her. Their shift or ours, whichever you think best."

Riddick showed his understanding and appreciation of her plotting with a wicked grin.

"Aye, aye, Captain. Now, how about some breakfast for your hard working First Officer?"

Belying his chauvinistic words, Riddick followed Jenna into the galley, dialed his own meal and refilled both their coffee mugs while she dialed hers. They shared a relaxed breakfast at the galley table interrupted only by Mira returning Jenna's com message and then joining them for coffee after they had finished eating. Riddick would have returned to the bridge, then, but Mira stopped him.

"No, please. You have spent some time with Prince Casmir and I would appreciate your opinion on some of the questions I have. You see, while I believe that he truly thinks himself a proponent of very liberal, very modern views, that would be of great benefit to our people, I … … Often, people do not live privately as they do publicly. … … I do feel an obligation to do what is best for my people but I do not want, do not think that I could survive, returning to the type of life that I had before. It was not … not pleasant for me even then but now … now when I know that I can have better, it would be intolerable. How can I insure that that will not happen?"

"Get it all in the contract, Princess. The one thing I can tell you for sure is that Casmir will keep a deal."

"But you are a man and what is between two men is considered important. Women are not given the same consideration in my world."

"Casmir was already keeping his promise to Nagia to find Sissua before he even talked to me. I'd say that keeping his word is important to him no matter who he gives it to."

"Even if he does not truly understand what he is agreeing to? Cannot truly believe that a New Meccan woman, the pampered and cloistered daughter of a royal house, would have the necessary spirit and courage to choose to live as Jack and your Jenna would live? That she would have the abilities necessary to do so?"

Mira's eyes were beginning to mist up and Jenna could feel Riddick silently screaming at her for rescue. She quickly drew the girl's attention to herself.

"New Meccan or not, men never take us seriously until we prove it to them and I've thought of some ways that you can accomplish that with Casmir."

As Riddick used the excuse of refilling their mugs to get away from the table and then escaped to the bridge, Jenna began explaining her plans to Mira. Mira liked them. Even Jenna's explanation of the complications with Rafferty didn't dampen the girl's quickly improving mood. She left the bridge smiling brightly and with a much lighter step than when she had entered it.

Jenna watched Riddick as he watched Mira leave with a bemused expression on his face. Then he spoke without her having to ask.

"She reminds me too much of Jack at that age. How in the hell do they get so serious and so wise so young?"

"The same as we did. They were born with it and life didn't give them any choice but to use it."

"Yeah. And ain't that a bitch. So what else do we have to deal with before we can relax?

"You need to bring Jack up to date on Rafferty and all the security work we need her to do. You also need to tell her that she's on bridge duty in seven hours."

"Fuck!"

"It was your idea. But to help you out, I'll set up a one stroke access to security audio and visual in the infirmary for her."

"Damn, you're just so good to me." Then the joking tone disappeared. "The little thief isn't doing so good, is he?"

Jenna's mind went into professional mode.

"He's alive and Syrus was able to repair most of the damage to his vital organs. His heart will be completely normal once the healing is completed. Though he will have some loss of lung function, it will not be debilitating for a normal life style; just no mountain climbing or extreme sports. He'll have his arm, at least cosmetically. Syrus was able to replace the destroyed shoulder joint with a prosthesis and the re-growth of the tendons and muscles is progressing well. He will have motion control there.

"The prognosis is not as positive for the rest of his arm. He has sense nerve function but the motor nerve function is very questionable, particularly in his hand. It may be that he will have to decide if he wishes to sacrifice flesh, blood and sensation for the functionality of a prosthesis there, as well. However, the fine motor control required for his weapons construction is not possible to replicate with our present technology since it also depends on the level of motor nerve function available.

"From a medical perspective, Jeeter is a walking miracle. From a psychological perspective, he may be an extremely critical case."

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Well, you better add Jack to that 'critical' list 'cause she's got that 'I'm gonna save something or die trying' sound in her voice again. And it don't take three guesses to figure out who it's aimed at."

"And what do you feel would be the best solution for that?"

Riddick raised an eyebrow and gave her a very nasty scowl. "Are you trying to play yoyo with me?"

The emphasis was very heavily on that 'me'. Jenna gave him an evil grin.

"No. I'm just trying to find out if I'm going to have to put you on house arrest because you are planning to be part of the problem rather than part of the solution."

"You think you're up to that, sweet thing?" the humor was back in his voice.

"Try me, stud. Having you chained to my bed sounds interesting." Riddick's eyebrows, both of them, shot sky high on that one. Ignoring it, Jenna continued, "Now, answer my question. Where are you at about Jack and Jeeter being 'together'?"

"She could do worse."

"Would you care to elaborate on that?"

"No. … … Ok, ok. I didn't like it at first. But he's not what I thought he was, not like what he played at back on Derius 4. And yeah, I was mad at him about bringing you to the station. But Jack said that he argued himself blue in the face trying to get you to let him handle the deal, you not go on the station, and you wouldn't listen."

Jenna interrupted, "Does Jack have a problem with that, with me?"

"A little … and so do I. … But hell, I don't listen so well either so maybe we should call it even."

Jenna filed that statement for future massive celebration. "Ok. Then, back to Jeeter and Jack."

"Like I said, she could do worse but … Hell, you know that this isn't the right way for it to happen! Not for either of them! The little guy's got … he's not going to want it this way and Jack isn't going to understand that."

"The word is 'pride' or perhaps dignity, honor. So basically, you don't object to them being together, you just don't want either of them to be hurt by it."

"Jack, I don't want Jack … You know, sometimes you're just too damn smart! I'm going to get a change of clothes. Do you want some?"

"Yes, and one of my over-large towels, too. I'd like a shower but the towels in the bunkroom bath are just normal size."

"Does that mean I get to watch you traipse around in it, showing leg?"

"Of course. But I was rather hoping that we could share the shower and then both traipse around showing leg. But, you need to talk to Jack first."

"Fuck."


	41. Chapter 41 Too Damn Much Business

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 41 – Too Damn Much Business

The shower and traipsing was not to be. Instead of clothing and towels, Riddick was forced to return to the bridge with an angry, stiff-lipped Jack in tow. After she had tried to wheedle around her 'big brother' to get her way and that hadn't worked, she'd gone 'official' on him and demanded a hearing with the Captain.

Riddick decided that there must have been a course in Space Law included in her college requirements for Pilot Certification or that she had expected this and been at the ship's library. The second she had Jenna's attention, she immediately began citing chapter and verse of the regulations concerning Emergency Family Leave.

To his surprise, Jenna didn't even question Jack's right to claim Jeeter as 'family'. Instead, she calmly countered with the regulations that put such leave at the discretion of the Captain and totally dependent on the ship's condition and the availability of replacement personnel. She capped it off with the allowable visitation schedule for the infirmary but put 'sugar on the shit' with an offer to allow that to be adjusted to fit a twelve-on/twelve-off duty schedule and the security link to the infirmary. Finally, Jenna put the cherry on top with the information that Jack would be riding the command slot during her shift. Damn, Jenna was good. Jack was spinning.

"Wow! Oh, holy shit! Wow. … … But … No! What if I'm not there when he wakes up? He'll think … he'll think that I don't care … that him being hurt … being … that it makes a difference! Damn it! What if it was Bro? You wouldn't be playing fucking 'Captain all mighty' then!"

"Yes. I would."

"What!!?? But I thought …??"

"I do. That's why I'd be right where I am now, doing my job and probably checking the security visual every five seconds. But I wouldn't be hanging over him making sure he knew that I thought he wasgoing to become a cripple." Then Jenna stood up and her voice softened, "Why don't you come into the galley with me and we can get some coffee. I think there are a few things that you need to know about big, strong men and the care and feeding of their egos."

Riddick wasn't sure he liked the sound of that last one but it worked on Jack and that was all that mattered right now. As he watched the two leave, Jenna put an arm around Jack's shoulders. As Jack accepted it and even leaned into Jenna, seeking comfort, he was very relieved that there was finally someone else besides him that could do that for her. It was something that she had never been able to accept from Imam. He was also glad that Jenna had taken their discussion elsewhere. From the sound of that intro it probably wouldn't do his 'big, strong male ego' any good to listen to it.

He busied himself double-checking all of the security adjustments that he had made and their swift out-system flight for any twinking that might be needed, which was none, then made a sweep of the ship to see who was where. Sen was hold-up in his office; Syrus was back in the infirmary with Jeeter; Ben was still, or back, in the yacht; Rafferty was in his quarters; Casmir and Imam were in Imam's quarters; and everybody else seemed to be gathered in the main dinning room.

Riddick hadn't even thought about adjusting back to ship's time but realized that they must be gathering for lunch, since he was sure that Jenna had followed procedure to set the bridge shifts from 6 to 6 so that both shifts could catch one end or the other of the mandatory shared dinner meal. Because of that, he was surprised when, thirty minutes later, Mira returned to the bridge with a cart carrying meal trays for both him and Jenna.

"I didn't think we got trays except for dinner?"

"It is an excuse, First. I must to talk to the Captain immediately."

"Something I can't deal with?"

"I'm extremely afraid so, Sir."

Ordinarily, Riddick wouldn't have allowed anything to disturb Jenna's and Jack's conversation but the use of official titles, the odd phrasing of her answers and the very worried look on Mira's face changed his mind. He crossed to the galley hatch and called Jenna out. Mira began speaking the second she saw her.

"Oh, please, you must come to the dinning room. It is Sasha and Jeff and David. They are becoming quite abusive with their language … and in front of the children."

Jenna hit the hatch at a dead run. Riddick paused only long enough to order the two girls to take over the bridge before thundering after her. He really didn't see what the big deal was about some screaming match that would cause Jenna to react like that but the fact that she did was enough for him to follow her.

When they arrived at the dinning room, the scene waiting for them explained Jenna's rush real well. Jeff and David were both on the deck; Jeff sprawled across David; both out cold from the looks of them. David's face was badly bruised and Jeff had a nasty gash in his scalp. Sasha was leaning on a folding chair with her uniform shirt in shreds and bruises starting to show along her arms; but conscious. Jenna's first question showed that this probably wasn't something new.

"Where are the children?"

Sasha was still a little breathless as she answered, "I had Nagia get them out of here as soon as I knew Jeff was going out of control."

Riddick watched, more than a little amused, as Jenna relaxed, did a pulse check to see that neither man was dead, made a com call to Syrus requesting he bring his hand scanner to do a check for two possible concussions and then turned back to Sasha with a disgusted look on her face.

"Then what happened?"

"Jeff attacked me! Physically! David … he tried to protect me, he really did." A soft smile curved her lips for a moment before it was replaced by anger. "Jeff hurt him, knocked him out … and even then he wouldn't stop hitting him … so I hit Jeff." This last was delivered with definite pride at the act.

"With that chair?"

"Yes!"

Jenna took a short time to think and then continued the conversation.

"Well, though I'm not pleased, this is certainly better than what I usually have to deal with; David hurt, Jeff preening and you looking spitefully happy at having caused it all. Can I hope that this difference means that you are finally ready to do something to correct this situation?"

Well, that certainly took Riddick back a step. What had happened to 'sugar not vinegar'? To his surprise, Sasha didn't get pissed. She got thoughtful.

Jenna left the woman alone with her thoughts as Syrus arrived, two rolling gurneys in tow, and commandeered Riddick and Jenna to help him get the 'combatants' loaded and transported to the infirmary. The only emotion that the snarky doctor allowed to show was a smirk of pleased surprise that Jeff was one of the injured. From what he'd just heard, Riddick could understand that one.

Riddick finished helping Syrus transfer the two men to proper beds, in separate rooms and restrained in Jeff's case, and get them stripped for examination, leaving Jenna free to deal with Sasha. Hell, if he ever found out that Syrus' ribs weren't still as bad as he was saying, he'd kill him. He returned to the infirmary office to find Jenna pouring Sasha a dose of Syrus' 'medicinal' whiskey. The blond looked like she had been crying. Appropriating himself a good slug of the liquor in a clean beaker, Riddick lounged against the wall and listened as the conversation continued.

"I want my and David's quarters moved away from Jeff's. I'd like us to be clear at the other end of the corridor if that's possible."

"There aren't any other double apartments, Sasha, and all the apartments at the other end are occupied."

"I don't care. A single one will be fine. But it has to be away from him, somewhere there isn't a connecting door between his and our quarters and he doesn't have any excuse to be anywhere near the corridor door to ours."

Riddick could see that Jenna would like to do that but was having problems with the logistics, didn't want to ask anyone else to move to get Sasha what she wanted, and was going into overdrive trying to figure out how Jeff would react to that kind of a slap in the face. He decided to throw his two credits into it.

"Have you got the kids settled, yet?"

Both the women gave him puzzled looks as Sasha answered him.

"Not really. They are all in Nagia's apartment for now. I was going to remodel one apartment for a boys' dorm and another for the girls. But Nagia isn't too happy with them being so far from her so she and Sissua will probably relocate to an apartment between the two dorms."

That was an even better answer than Riddick had expected. He turned to Jenna.

"There's your answer. Use Jeff's apartment for the boys and give Nagia, Sissua and the other girls the double apartment. Then, David and Sasha can have Nagia's old quarters, almost at the other end of the corridor. You assign Jeff the first apartment across the corridor from where he is now and you put Casmir in the second one on that side to finish blocking him off. That way, you order it; everybody moves; Jeff has no idea that Sasha had anything to do with it because she can bitch about losing her double apartment; and he can talk to the First Officer if he has a gripe about it."

By the time he had finished, Sasha was beaming at him a little too brightly for comfort and Jenna's warm appreciation was just right. Jenna's next words to Sasha were just right, too, since they would get the blond out of Riddick's immediate area.

"All right, Sasha, you had better get the moving started right now. I don't think either Jeff or David is badly hurt and I want it all finished before either of them gets out of the infirmary. I'm not going to stand for another fight starting in the housing corridor because they are crossing each other's path carrying stuff from apartment to apartment. Commandeer anyone you need to help you and First and I will cover the bridge until you get finished." Then a small gleam appeared in Jenna's eyes. "See if Casmir is willing to help."

Sasha looked surprised that Jenna would suggest that. Riddick guessed that "Prince" carried a lot more weight with the blond than "Princess" since she had never seemed to have any trouble asking Mira to do chores. Then again, maybe Casmir had been throwing his title around which Mira never had. Whichever it was, Jenna didn't seem to be missing a bet when it came to checking Casmir out. From Jenna's next request, Riddick saw that she didn't seem to be leaving much to chance with Sasha either.

"And don't get vicious with Jeff's belongings. The less he has to complain about the better. You owe me that much."

Sasha nodded as she rose and headed for the infirmary hatch. Then she paused, almost turned back as if to say something, but shook her head and continued on out the door. Riddick turned his full attention to Jenna.

"This ship is pretty small. Do you think that moving them is really going to work?"

Jenna took a small sip from the beaker he was holding and wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Jeff has never man-handled Sasha before. She's not the type to put up with that so I think she's serious about being rid of him. I also intend to keep him stuffed in his lab working on the improvements to the yacht's Keller engines. That should help with the separation."

Then Jenna gave him the 'you're probably not going to like this' look. "Sasha isn't as tough as she pretends to be. She was raised pampered and protected. This is the first time anyone has ever raised a hand to her and it really scared her. Enough that she wants to try the defense training again. I promised that we would include her in the sessions with Jack and Mira."

Oh, yeah. Just what Riddick needed – a hundred and ten pounds of slut trouble, three hours a week. That smile she had thrown him was too easy to read. Sasha might be through with Jeff but she wasn't ready to turn into a faithful little hausefrau to David either. Riddick had met her kind before and, in his opinion, 'prowling' was something that was built into them before they were born and never left. He was very tempted to give Jeff a good set of bruises for putting her on the hunt again.

Suddenly, Riddick was up to the teeth with all of it. With a growl, "I'm getting that shower. I'll see you back on the bridge.", he left the infirmary at a fast walk. Once he got to his quarters, he stripped as he went, dropping clothing from the corridor hatch to the door of the bath. Setting the tub to fill, he used the shower to lather, scrub and rinse before sinking into the almost too hot water to soak.

He had been around too many people for too long. His 'people that matter' list was getting too long. So was his 'people I want to hurt, bad, but can't' list. Sheep! David, Sasha, Jeff; even the merc and thinks-he's-a-badass Sen; nothing but fucking bleating sheep and Riddick was the BIG BAD WOLF!

If the bint had been that stupid in slam, he would have killed both men, if necessary; taken her, whether he wanted her or not; and then thrown her back to the rest of the animals just to teach her a lesson. As for that bullshit plot to ghost him, both Rafferty and Sen would have died for it; Rafferty immediately and Sen as soon as Riddick could get his hands on him. End of aggravation!

What he wanted to do now was what he'd always done on the outside, just walk off and let the bunch of them fuck each other royally; just stuff Jack and Jenna into the BC and take off. But that wasn't the way it worked for him. After that last battle; that last dirty, so-gone-to-fuck dark-op; Riddick didn't ever again tell anyone else what to do. He might tell them what he thought they ought to do but they had to decide for themselves. Even if he could make himself break that imperative this time, it would be a waste of effort with both Jack and Jenna. If he forced them, the first time he took his eyes off of either of them they would be gone – trying to find their way back on their own.

And if he gave them the choice? It would be fucking T2 all over again! Jack would play the part of Carolyn; beg, plead and, finally, rage at him to stay. And Jenna ? … … Jenna would 'understand' him. And that would be so fucking much worse. She'd get that calm, slightly sad look on her face; hand him the transfer of ownership to the BC; and walk away.

A snapping sound and a small, but sharp, pain cut through his thoughts. He opened his eyes to find the ceramic soap dish that had been sitting on the side of the tub crushed in one fist, a slight trickle of blood staining the bath water. Rising from the tub and dripping across the room, he threw the pieces of the dish into the trash chute, poured antiseptic over the slash in his palm and slapped a couple of pieces of medical tape over it to keep from bleeding on the towels.

After drying off, he didn't even bother to wrap a towel around himself before striding back through the bedroom to the living room. Reaching into the liquor cabinet, he grabbed the first bottle he touched, flopped onto the couch and threw back a couple of large swallows. Vodka, damn good vodka!

"Well, now, Big Evil. Just what in the fucking hell are you going to do?"

((Scene Break)) ((Scene Break))

Jenna watched Riddick storm out of the infirmary. Someone who didn't know him would have thought that he was suffering from nothing more than mild disgust. Jenna knew better. Riddick was nearing the end of his ability to tolerate her, as Rafferty had named it, psycho circus. To be truthful about it, so was she. Perhaps because she had escaped so much of it while preparing the ships, she now found herself totally exasperated with Max's machinations in particular and being constantly on call as peace maker between the members of the group and between each of them and their own psyche in general.

The only obligation she felt now was to see the group safely delivered to the new colony. She even had doubts that the huge freighter now surrounding her would be enough of an incentive to force her to remain in contact with that colony if Max didn't clean up his act sufficiently. Oh, she would see to securing replacement pilots for herself and Riddick, probably from among Rafferty's men if possible. After that, sitting the bridge of the BC or her newly ordered twin and leaving the colony and the group far behind her just might be the better choice.

However, the longer it took to get to that point, the longer Max had to plot and scheme, the worse the odds of ever getting there became. Something had to be done quickly to not only speed up the process of relocation but also to force Max to exercise a great deal more restraint on his megalomaniacal urges. There were two main obstacles to the first, Jeeter's medical condition and the presence of Prince Casmir and his marriage negotiations with Mira.

Jenna decided that Casmir could be returned to New Mecca when it was convenient for the Hole to do so, that or he could just cool his heels until it was. She couldn't see that a little delay would have that much effect. If Mira were to agree to marry him, he would be the returning hero and, with the backing of the Founding Families, his political future would be assured. If she didn't, he didn't have a political future other than as the leader of a doomed rebellion no matter when he returned. However, if he could convince her otherwise, she could always delegate the job to Riddick and the BC.

Jeeter was another matter. Turning back to the examination rooms, she located Syrus and pulled him away from his scan of a now conscious and very angry Jeff.

"I need to know exactly how many days it will be until Jeeter can be safely sedated for hyper?"

"May I ask what has precipitated the need for such haste?"

"If I don't get Max down on some planet and out of my hair, I'm going to kill him."

"Ah, yes. I had wondered how long it would be before you reached that point. In answer to your question, our esteemed Third Officer should be capable of safe hyper travel in four days, five at the most."

"Jack read his chart at seven days at best?"

"And she received her medical degree where?" Then at Jenna's skeptical look, "All right. I've changed my initial prognosis. He's rather a remarkable specimen, fantastic recovery factors. Most likely a matter of survival of the fittest. Now, for that admission, you owe it to me to prevent a murder of my own and do something about Jeffie before I turn his slight concussion into massive brain damage and blame it on Sasha's initial attack."

Returning to the exam room, Jenna informed Jeff of the changes 'she had ordered' in his living arrangements and his new assignment to overhaul the Keller engines of the new yacht. She then threatened that either her First Officer or she would slice him into tiny pieces if he even looked at either David or Sasha in an unacceptable manner, or anyone else on board the Hole for that matter. He, of course, felt the need to argue about it.

"You're letting this 'Captain' stuff go to your head. You have absolutely no right to interfere with my personal life."

"Whether that is true or not, Jeff, is a moot point. I am interfering in it. And I will keep my promise. The day that you cross me on this will be the most horrible day of your life … and the last. When we pulled Jack and Imam off of New Mecca, I killed five men that I didn't even know because they were in our way. I slit their throats from ear to ear and clear to their spines. Do you think I will have a problem with killing one more, one who has aggravated the hell out of me every day that I've known him?"

As she exited the exam room, Jenna wasn't sure that she had convinced him of how absolutely serious she was. However, as she entered the outer office, Syrus' laughter and his accompanying comments reassured her.

"I don't know what you did to him, Oh Captain, My Captain, but his pulse spiked almost off the chart and now he's retching. I'm sure that his headache will be horrendous after that. So sad that painkillers are contraindicated for concussion."

Jenna didn't believe for one second that Syrus hadn't listened in on her conversation with Jeff. But, it really didn't matter since she was also quite sure that he had already pumped Jack, Nagia, Mira and Jeeter for every bit of information he could get about the events at the compound. Nor would knowing the truth be in any way detrimental to their relationship. If anything, Syrus was probably quite satisfied that she was finally developing her primitive side.

As she walked back to the bridge, she began considering the other part of the problem, Max. Threatening him with physical harm, as she had Jeff, wouldn't work. While Jeff relied at his base level on his physical abilities to dominate, Max relied on his mental ones. No, with Max, it would require a threat to his 'grand scheme' that would depend on his skills at negotiation and compromise to deal with. Just a simple matter of convincing him that he had better treat Jenna as a trusted ally of the first order or she was going to blow the whole thing sky high.

It would be simple, because it was now the truth. While setting up the colony and rescuing as much of the 'ditzy damsel in distress' Institute as possible from the clutches of the 'evil villain' military/industrial complex that was perverting it was a romantic adventure on an epic scale, she wasn't going to do the sweating, bleeding, and dying such epics always entailed just to give it to 'devious old king' Max to pervert.

If it there was one thing that she had learned from all those myths and fairy tales that Syrus had made sure were part of her 'education', it was that when the hero returned time after time with whatever had been required of him for the hand of his heroine only to find that even more was being asked, it was time for the hero to get some smarts and just take his lady and run. So, that was what she was going to threaten to do to Max, just take her ships and leave him to deal with the Company and the Forces on his own.

It was what he feared already, what had led to his plot against Riddick. The solution was to make that fear an open, out-of-the-shadows certainty with equally open communication as the only preventative measure available to him. Max might prefer his twisted little plots but he wasn't so stupid as to persist with what wouldn't work. Now, Jenna just had to make sure that he knew that she wasn't stupid either and that the games were over.

Stepping onto the bridge, Jenna dismissed Mira and Jack with instructions to aid Sasha with the changes in the quarters assignments but to make sure that the blond did her share of the actual work, not to let her do nothing but supervise. As soon as they were gone she began to set her plans in motion. The first step was a call to the shipyard from which the BC's twin and the new bay had been ordered.

Jenna was pleased to find that the bay was available now and could be installed as soon as the Hole arrived at the shipyard. The BC's twin required the added installation of the hyper engines but that was already underway and would be finished within seven to ten days. When she questioned the quick availability of them, she discovered that she had Max to thank for it.

It seemed that the designs for both the ship and the completely innovative bay had been deemed extremely marketable and the company that owned that chain of shipyards had contracted with the group for exclusive rights to manufacture them. The slight delay in the availability of the ship was due to the fact that their standard model was Keller-drive-only with hyper as a special order. Also, the cost of bay, ship and installation would be taken from the percent of profits already owed to the group on product sales before the yearly transfer of those funds into company stock.

With this very satisfying outcome warming her soul, Jenna turned to the nav console. Calling up all the plotted gates within five to seven days of the Hole's present location, she searched for the best route to the shipyard. She located what she was looking for quite quickly, a gate six days away that would require only one secondary jump with very little travel time between gates to get her where she wanted to be. Entering and activating the new nav plot, she sent the Hole speeding through space on its new mission.

If Syrus was correct in his prognosis for Jeeter, she would be overseeing the installation of the new bay in slightly over eight days and should be able to leave the shipyard as soon as the new planet-lander was ready, ten days at the outside if all went according to plan. She figured twelve days into her evolving schedule since you could never rely on everything happening as it should.

Her next call was to a second shipyard in the same sector, one that thought that the government regulations against certain types of armaments for civilian merchants were there to be broken. From that communication she learned that it would require only four days, with the proper extra payment for 'over time', to replace the tepid weapons the regulations allowed with ones matching those of the BC.

Turning to her next task, she paged Rafferty to the bridge. When he arrived, properly dressed in his ship's uniform, Jenna got right to the point.

"I've ship's business to take care of that will require approximately sixteen days. As soon as that is accomplished, I want to begin picking up the first of your people. I want this first contingent limited to security and construction muscle. How many men do you think you can arrange for pick up in that time frame?"

To Rafferty's credit, he limited his visible shock to a few seconds of rapid blinking. "Somewhere between one and two hundred but most of them will have families that will have to come in as soon as the colony is on the ground."

"How many pilots in that group?"

No blinking, the merc was in operations mode. "Keller or hyper?"

"Both and combat trained if possible."

"With myself, three hyper. Maybe ten more that are Keller-only. All of us are combat trained."

"Good. You have access to the com, Mister. Start making your calls."

With this new information, Jenna re-contacted the original shipyard and arranged for two more bays and ships without hyper drive. This pushed the cost a little beyond what was owed the group but the Sales Manager assured her that the company would have no problem carrying a negative balance, at a reasonable rate of interest that would be less costly than the sale of already purchased stock, for the few months it would take new sales to cover it. The installation of the new bays would only increase the time for installation to the twelve days that Jenna had approximated in the first place.

Another call to the second shipyard raised their time estimate to rearm all three ships to only ten days while still tripling the 'over time' payment. Such were the ways of doing business. Jenna was well satisfied with the twenty-two day estimated time but put it on her personal schedule at twenty-eight and informed Rafferty of the change in his time frame.

She also gave him a credit card number that his people could use for any commercial travel they might need to use to group-up and informed him that he could use side-trips for the two hyper planet-landers, with himself and Riddick as pilots, to smooth out any routing problems he might have. With an awed comment, "Damn, Forces Central Command could use someone like you, Captain." The merc began to work the com hot and heavy.

All that accomplished, Jenna turned her attention to Max. Checking his location on the security screen, she open the com to his office. When it was answered by his voice mail, she bypassed it and opened the room speaker.

"This is the Captain. I am hereby informing the Colony Leader that he has twenty-one days to inform me of the location he has chosen for his colony. If he does not choose to do so, I will choose one." Then, "I mean it Max. You start playing straight with me or your ass is going planet-side whether you like it or not. End trans."

Closing the internal com, Jenna blocked Sen from any external com usage then relaxed back to wait for the results of it all.


	42. Chapter 42 The Journey to Sanctuary

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 42 – The Journey to Sanctuary

The next six days passed without any further incidents, though the tension on board the Hole was as thick as a Hegelian fog. Riddick knew that he had been the cause of some of that at first.

When he had finally crawled out of his quarters, sober but a bit hung over, a full shift later than he should have, Jenna had recognized his morose mood in a way he could accept. She never openly reacted to it but she had taken steps to deal with it. She had given him the isolation that he needed by assigning him the task of using the BC to maneuver the outer pods of the ship, replacing any functioning ones with empty cargo pods at the locations for the three new bays and shifting a few more to fine tune the weapons pod configuration to include those that had been in the positions of the bays.

Riddick had to give her credit for knowing what she was doing, not only with him, with all of her new plans. It was like watching a hurricane but a very logical, well organized one. Riddick understood even better what Jeeter had been up against when she had decided that they needed the second lander.

She had located the second bay behind the bridge on the other side from the original but put the third and fourth bays on opposite sides of the central corridor at the other end of the ship. It was a military configuration rather than a commercial one, a longer run for the pilots to reach the third and fourth auxiliary ships but less chance of all the auxiliaries being taken out before they could launch. She also assigned the exact duplicate of the BC, the other hyper-capable one, to the bay on the opposite side and at the other end of the configuration.

He couldn't find any fault in the type of ships that she had ordered either. Though he would probably have gone with Keller-only for all three new ships, a second hyper-capable planet-lander wasn't a bad idea if you had the credits for it. The extra ships would not only give them some 'fighter power' but would also speed up the process of downloading the colony. He did think that she was a little optimistic on her refitting schedule but had to admit that she had more experience with that sort of stuff than he did. He had always stolen his rides not had them built to spec.

Riddick did have some serious doubts about the Rafferty part of her plans. First, he wasn't ready to trust the man that far. Second, the idea of having a couple of hundred mercs around him made his skin crawl. But, watching the redhead bust his tail to recruit his people and get them into position for pick-up was an eye-opener. A lot of them were older men with families and working as private security. Even the younger ones weren't hunters like Johns and Rafferty's original crew. The pick-ups also started to include quite a few grown, or near grown, sons and daughters and even some wives. Rafferty assured Jenna that these dependents were all trained fighters and no younger children turned up on the lists. That didn't make Rafferty's people 'safe' but it was a good bet that they would be more interested in the colony than in Riddick.

As Riddick's mood eased, the tension didn't. The visible cause was the 'terrible no-longer-a-trio' and, unexpectedly, Prince Casmir and Princess Mira. David was his usual quiet self; Sasha was playing faithful companion to him, even in the defense classes; and Jeff was heeding Jenna's threats and staying out of their way for the most part. However, every time the three of them happened to turn-up in the same place at the same time the temperature seemed to drop twenty degrees. The same was true for the New Meccan pair. Riddick decided that he had been right about Casmir not being as willing to be as liberal thinking in his private life as in his public one. Watching this human-comedy, he had the thought that 'somebody up there' had really cut him a break by dropping Jenna in his lap.

The not so visible tension, which bothered Riddick more because it bothered Jenna more, was caused by Sen. The man had gone incommunicado, hold up in his quarters or his office, either requesting trays from the central kitchen or using the one in his rooms. As Syrus had snidely commented, "His royal highness is in a royal snit."

Riddick had to hand it to Jenna for cool, though. She just as thoroughly ignored Sen and put Ben to work hacking all of his personal files in an attempt to locate the coordinates of the planet he had chosen. She then worked on scanning the Central Core Records for newly established independent colonies that might welcome the addition of the group and Rafferty's people without trying to indenture them in the process.

As it turned out, Jenna found Sen's secret before Ben did. Just hours before they were to make their first jump, while checking out the owners of several promising newly-registered colonies, she found one that traced back through a complicated series of stock holding companies to one that she recognized as one of the group's front companies. The smile on her face was absolutely evil as she added it's coordinates as the end point of the routing she and Rafferty were developing for the pick-up of his people. Riddick fucking loved it when she smiled like that.

Jeeter lived up to Syrus' improved prognosis and they made the double jump to the shipyards on schedule. Rafferty rode the bridge with Jenna and Riddick for these. After the first had proved his tolerance for hyper, Jenna had him pilot the second, with her hand on the take-over, to prove his ability to fly it as well. The merc didn't have Jenna's unique talent and, in fact, wasn't even as good as Riddick but he could have passed the commercial requirements. When Riddick called him on this, the look of distaste that accompanied the "not in this lifetime" left no doubt that Rafferty shared Riddick's opinion of the regulation-bound pencil-pushers that most commercial pilots had to work for and the pampered passenger cargo that they had to deal with.

Business at the first shipyard went smoothly. Everyone who had any dealings with the shipyard personnel had to get used to a new set of names for themselves and the ships but otherwise no problems. Jenna was able to easily sell off the extra empty pods at a good price and the installation of the bays and the hyper-fitting of the one auxiliary ship were finished on schedule. At the second yard, with a second set of new identities, things went just as well with the weapons refittings but the conversation during a face-to-face with the owner gave Riddick a few bad seconds and a new appreciation of Jenna's people skills.

"You're buying an awful lot of firepower for a transport, even one as big as yours?"

"The company is getting into colony protection as well as supply."

"Raider's are getting that bad?"

"In the remote colonies, yes."

"You'd think that the Patrol would do something about that. We pay enough to support it to expect better."

"True. But then, that's why you're in business and my company is expecting good profits from expanding. Anyway, most of the colonies feel the same way you and I do. The farther the government stays away from our business the better."

"Well now, that does say it, doesn't it. Care for another jigger all round while we finish our business?"

During the process at the second yard, exactly at the end of Jenna's twenty-one day deadline, Sen finally left the coordinates for the location of the colony on Jenna's voice mail. Riddick couldn't keep from laughing at her fist-thrust-into-the-air, "Yes", as she compared it to that of the colony she had discovered and found that they matched. However, she gave no hint of either her elation or having already discovered the information when she left a polite 'thank you' on Sen's voice mail. She also reinstated his access to the external com.

The next two months were dedicated to making the pick-ups of Rafferty's people and testing out any that he designated pilots on the planet-landers and the two new hyper pilots on jumps. They also had to begin using their permanent names even though Jenna kept switching the ship's ID for each pickup.

Riddick discovered that the members of the group had been using theirs all along except for Jenna. But 'Djin ah' was just Jenna spelled a different way and 'Blakeney' was as good as any for a last name because Riddick hadn't ever had one for her anyway. Jeeter had picked 'Michael Lazarus' but everyone still called him Jeeter. Jack didn't have to have a new ID because Jenna just had a few twinks made to the one that she had assumed when she first arrived on New Mecca. As for Riddick, he was ok with 'Wade', the last name Jenna had chosen for him, and he could live with the nickname 'Rick' but that 'Elric' she had laid on him was going to have to change before she cut his final identity papers.

There were only two small ripples during that time. The first was a side-trip for Riddick and the BC to return Casmir, Mira and Imam to New Mecca.

It seemed that the pair had finally worked out their differences. The contract that Jenna ok'ed was at least two fingers thick and Riddick was certain that Mira hadn't missed a thing in her negotiations. While he still looked a bit dazed sometimes, Casmir was obviously falling in love with his tiny princess who had proved herself his intellectual equal.

Riddick had been surprised that Nagia and Sissua weren't in the returning party. It had turned out that Sissua, along with the rest of the children, was a lot better at understanding where her best future would be and adapting than her mother. The children took a vote and unanimously demanded to be allowed to join the colony. Nagia had no choice but to go along with their decision since Mira approved of it, had probably engineered it, and all but ordered her to allow Sissua her choice and to accompany the children since she would be the only one left to see that they didn't completely forget their own heritage.

Saying good-bye to Imam hadn't been what Riddick had expected. When Jack cried all over the holy man on the bridge of the Hole, Riddick hadn't felt anything. But, as Riddick stood on the ramp of the BC watching his passengers walk toward Casmir's circus wagon ground car, things changed. Imam had turned and walked back to him.

"I know that we do not agree on many things, Richard, and that it is doubtful that I will ever see you again. For this very reason, there are words that I must say to you. I have misjudged you. You have truly turned your life to an honorable and moral path." Then the man smiled wryly, "Though the people you have aligned yourself with are engaged in illegalities, they are doing so for honorable and moral reasons. This distinction is perhaps one that you have taught me to appreciate, my friend. Therefore, I will pray to Allah for safety, happiness and long life for both you and your most appropriate lady."

Imam had then held out his hand, Riddick had shaken it, and then Imam had walked away, entered the ground car and was gone. Riddick had stood on the ramp for a long time after that, trying to deal with what he was feeling. Fuck! It wasn't supposed to matter to him what the holy man thought. But he couldn't deny that what the man had said had done something to him. It was like when Carolyn had looked up at him with pride and Jack had told him that she 'never had a doubt' when they had returned to that cleft in the cliffs on T2.

With a muttered, 'Shit! This better not be happening too often.", Riddick had turned and stomped into the BC then made his lift off from New Mecca. But it was still bothering him when he went into hyper to rendezvous with the Hole. Oddly enough, during that jump, the effects of hyper seemed to allow his mind to get a handle on it. It still didn't matter what other people thought of him, wasn't something that he needed. It was just all right for it to feel good anyway.

The second ripple arrived at the next pick-up after Riddick returned to the Hole, another side trip for the BC that both he and Rafferty had taken; Rafferty to verify his people's identities and Riddick as back-up pilot but really because Jenna still didn't let Rafferty very far away without a keeper. There was an extra man among those expected. He was quite a bit younger than average for Rafferty's men and Riddick was expecting one of the older ones to claim the short, slim, blue-eyed blond as his son. Then a shocked look on Rafferty's face had Riddick reaching for his shiv. But, the first word out of the merc's mouth turned Riddick's concern into amusement.

"Charlie! What are you doing here?!"

"You didn't expect to be going on any grand adventure without me, did you, Red?"

Rafferty pulled the younger man further into the BC and then into one of the cabins and shut the hatch. Riddick chuckled softly to himself as he loaded the rest of the new recruits and headed back for the Hole. He did, however, resist being a total bastard and risked the possible enjoyment he was going to get by calling ahead and warning Jenna that they had an unexpected guest coming; that Charlie, "You know. The one that was mentioned when we first met Rafferty.", would soon be onboard the Hole. From the slightly strangled sound of her voice as she quickly cut the com connection, Riddick knew that Jenna had understood the warning.

Therefore, Riddick was surprised, when he dropped the BC's ramp in the bay of the Hole, to find Syrus in his usual place waiting to collect medical records, make cursory exams and schedule appointments for full medicals on the new arrivals. After getting the rest of the arrivals off the BC and queued up for Syrus, it was with evil delight that Riddick pounded on the still closed cabin hatch and told Rafferty to get his 'friend' in line for that procedure.

Rafferty didn't show until more than half of the other men had passed through Syrus' exams and been led away by some earlier pick-up into the main body of the ship. Then, he was keeping a tight grip on Charlie's arm and didn't allow him to get very far from the BC until the rest of the men had been processed and left the bay and there was nothing to do but present him for his exam. From the heated looks that Charlie was throwing in Syrus' direction and the rather agitated way he was talking to the anxious looking Rafferty, Riddick was sure that Charlie had been told exactly who Syrus was and what he and Rafferty had been up to.

Syrus, on the other hand seemed to be ignoring the redheaded merc and his companion, too obviously ignoring them. The other oddity was that rather than being dressed in the medical greens he usually wore for this, Syrus was wearing his dress uniform. This included one of the more flamboyant, open fronted, ruffled shirts that he preferred and his full weapons belt with the extremely dangerous long saber and both the vicious daggers that he was very accomplished at wielding. His hair was also clipped back at the nape of his neck, the way he always wore it during weapons practice. Oh, yeah, Jenna had definitely cued him in but Riddick was certain that this wasn't the way she had hoped he would react.

Riddick watched with dark anticipation as Charlie walked up and stood defiantly in front of Syrus. Unless Riddick had lost his ability to judge men, the cocky young idiot would be dead on the deck before he even knew it if he started anything and it looked likely that he would. As Syrus went through the exams with the same cold professionalism that he had with all the others, Charlie became more and more antsy. When Syrus finally dismissed him and walked away to place his medical file disk on a table with those of the other arrivals, Charlie just had to push it. Still looking directly at Syrus' back he spoke to Rafferty.

"Well, Red, now that that's over how about showing me where your quarters are so I can get settled in."

Syrus turned slowly then leaned back against the table with an almost believable look of surprise on his face. "Manuel, this is 'your' Charlie? You told me he was good but you didn't tell me he was such a luscious little piece. Should I get a bigger bed for my quarters? It would certainly save you from all the running back and forth."

The kid looked shocked, then he paled and then he turned red with anger. The only thing that saved him from a sudden, bloody death was Rafferty jerking him into a bear hug before he could take that first step toward Syrus and dragging him bodily out of the bay, struggling and spitting disconnected words like an enraged house cat. After watching this exit, Syrus turned his attention to Riddick.

"Oh my, did I say something that upset the boy? How impolite of me."

Riddick returned Syrus' evil sneer with one of his own then turned toward the bridge hatch as Syrus began collecting the medical disks. He found Jenna in the command slot. She was just moving the security screen back and pulling the nav screen forward to check their course to the next pick-up.

"Better or worse than you expected, sweet thing?"

"Since I hadn't anticipated Charlie being that young and that stupid and he's still breathing, it was a successful first round. I don't know what Syrus was for Rafferty but Rafferty was never anything but a pleasant diversion for him. Syrus has promised me that he will be civil if everyone else is. I can only hope that Rafferty can get some control over his boy-toy or, at the least, keep him away from Syrus. Syrus won't go out of his way to find him but he won't go out of his way to avoid him either."

For a while it looked like there still might be bloodshed. Rafferty actually was running back and forth. Charlie was ensconced in Rafferty's quarters but Rafferty was paying visits to Syrus' behind his back. However, by the time Charlie discovered this, he had already seen just what Syrus could do with those blades of his during weapons training. Good sense, or a healthy instinct for survival, won out and he reacted to this by moving into the communal bunkroom that had been set up in the common area.

But that wasn't the end of it. A few pick-ups later, a new arrival caught Syrus' eye; a calm, quiet dark-haired man in his mid-forties who could be taken for a somewhat reclusive college professor if you didn't look close enough to see the hard hands and the too world-weary look in his hazel brown eyes. Syrus, however, didn't behave as Rafferty had. He flatly told Rafferty that it was over between them, in front of witnesses, cancelled the redhead's access to his private quarters and, after a week of getting acquainted, invited his new interest to move in. Which William 'call me Bill' Archer immediately did.

When Riddick asked Jenna what she thought about all this, her answer revealed more than he expected.

"Did you think that Syrus wouldn't get his revenge on Rafferty? The one thing that he can't abide is a sneak. Since Charlie wasn't willing to be part of a triad, Rafferty should have stayed away from Syrus after he moved Charlie into his quarters. The only reason Syrus let Rafferty crawl back into his bed was to set him up for it. I'm just relieved that Syrus actually found someone who might be good for him rather than taking the first thing that came along that would do. As for Rafferty, I give it another week before Charlie moves back in with him.

"But the whole thing may work out better in the long run. Just before we jumped for the shipyards, Syrus requested I recruit physicians for the colony and he is training Nagia to handle things until I can get them. He plans to stay with the ship when we start bringing in the families and then going after more refugees from the Institute. Since then, Rafferty has assumed that he was taking the third pilot slot on the Hole. I'd rather have one of the other hyper pilots as back up for us; first, because he's a better pilot and second, because Rafferty needs to stay with the colony to keep an eye on Max. Now, I won't have to argue that with Rafferty. In fact, I can make it seem as if I'm doing him a favor and 'settling' for one of the others because I understand his situation. I still need him on our side in the colony."

Riddick agreed with her about needing to keep Rafferty at least semi-friendly since Sen still wasn't speaking to Jenna directly but using the merc as a go-between. But the part about Syrus was something new.

"Syrus is staying with the ship?"

"Yes. The reason he gave me was that it would be easier to prevent any contagious diseases from getting to the colony than to try and control an epidemic after it arrives. I think that the truth is that he liked the excitement of what happened during your mission to New Mecca and on McGhee's station and he wants to be part of snatching the Institute people out from under the noses of the Company. He rather enjoys playing the pirate.

"I'm also keeping Jack, Jeeter and Ben with us. I think that David may stay with the ship as well. He can handle any problems with the Keller engines as well as the hyper and he's working on giving me nav control while in hyper, not something he can do planet-side."

Riddick didn't like the sound of that. "What about Sasha?"

"Oh I don't think that will be a problem."

The tone in Jenna's voice told Riddick that she wasn't going to say any more on that subject. But he had enough to think about with the list of people that she was keeping with her on the ship. Jenna wasn't letting anyone who really mattered to her go down to the colony. She was making sure that she wouldn't be leaving anything behind if, or more likely when, she cut herself free of it.

Jenna was right about Charlie moving back in with Rafferty but wrong about the timing. It didn't take a week. The only other change in things before they arrived at the colony planet wasn't even a ripple as far as Riddick was concerned. It was what he knew would happen the minute Sasha had given him that wistful, too interested smile in the infirmary. With the influx of new meat, she had been unable to resist the temptation.

The only thing that surprised Riddick, but that shouldn't have after that cryptic remark of Jenna's, was that David quietly requested quarters of his own and divorced Sasha under the covenants of the new colony. He also made a formal request to stay on the Hole as permanent crew. After that, David and Jeff started talking to each other again, Jeff giving David a crash refresher course in the Keller side of Engineering. As for Sasha, she seemed quite happy to be single again and was playing the field without letting any one man take up too much of her time. Jenna's take on it was quite succinct.

"She's been so successful with overseeing the children's studies that Sen has her slated to be the Superintendent of Education for the colony. She doesn't need a man to give her an identity anymore."

Riddick wasn't sure that he understood that last part but the first meant that the blond would be off of the ship and gone and that was all he cared about. When it had only been the group or as things were now, the ship crowded with people, Sasha couldn't do much damage. But during long jumps in deep space with an almost empty ship except for bored merc types, trouble like her could tear a crew apart and destroy a ship. Oddly enough the idea of having David onboard didn't bother him at all. Riddick didn't have any doubts about Jenna and David wasn't the kind to make a pest out of himself where he wasn't wanted.

By the end of the pick-ups, Jenna and Riddick had filled out the bridge crew slots for the Hole and found enough fighter and planet-landing pilots to fill those slots for all of the auxiliary ships, for the usual three shifts, from Rafferty's people, mostly the younger ones. The only older ones were Bill Archer and Ted 'Teddy Bear' Mason.

Teddy Bear, a rather portly black man who was just as sweet natured as his name implied and had the touch of an angel on the controls, was their third hyper pilot. He also had no ambitions whatsoever to be responsible for anything but piloting and Jenna was able to leave Jack in the command slot with him as pilot on one of the shifts. Jenna reassured Riddick about this by telling him that she also felt that the man would, in a bad situation, give Jack a good stable second to turn to for advice.

Archer turned out to be a tough, deadly fighter and an intelligent tactician with a talent for command. It wasn't just to please Syrus that Jenna recruited him as Squad Leader of the ships security personnel and Riddick's second on any snatch and grab missions and let him pick his own men, all very hard looking thirty-somethings with no families. He also had enough talent with security systems to be Assistant Security Chief to Jeeter and the tact to be supportive to Jeeter's still somewhat shaky ego without making it obvious what he was doing.

As for Jeeter, he was a walking miracle as far as Riddick was concerned with more fucking guts than anyone Riddick had ever known. When he thought about it, Riddick had trouble believing that this was the same man that had been G's rat-faced little sycophant. Syrus had release him from the infirmary after a month and put him back on active duty, "under protest at the patient's request", after another two weeks. The little man had opted to keep his own arm and spent all of his off duty time that Syrus would allow in the infirmary doing physical therapy and some experimental nerve stimulation process that Syrus had either found or was inventing. Some days he still looked like hell-warmed-over when he almost staggered onto the bridge for his shift.

But 'give-up' just wasn't in Jeeter's vocabulary. Day after day, Riddick watched him push himself until now he was almost as fast at his slot controls with one hand as he had been with two and he used his bad arm for everything that he could managed to do with it, even if it was just as a weight to hold something in place. Riddick had learned from Jack that he was having her and Ben help him design and make special tools and vises to let him start working on his blade-jewelry again. The little man had also asked Riddick to help him work on his fighting skills when Syrus said that he was strong enough for that.

And the thing that got to Riddick the most was that Jeeter kept smiling, joking and trying to make everybody else feel better about the whole fucking thing all the time he was going through the hell of it. Whatever happen in the end, whether Jeeter got back the use of his hand or not, Riddick figured it didn't really matter. Jeeter was a survivor and more of a man than ninety-nine point ninety-nine percent of the universe. Jack couldn't have found better and Riddick could stop worrying about his 'little sister'.

The only problem that turned up with the crew scheduling was Ben. After Mira's return to New Mecca, Riddick had noticed the kid was acting strange; only talking when he couldn't avoid it, doing his bridge shift and then disappearing, not showing up for weapons practice. When Jeeter came back on duty, it got even worse. Riddick could feel the black anger radiating off Ben.

When Ben finally told Jenna he was going to stay with the colony, Riddick was just as happy about it as he had been about Sasha leaving. He knew that Jenna was worried sick about the kid but that just made him want Ben gone even faster. He'd seen people act that way before and was almost certain that Ben was on the edge of going psycho to the point that even Jenna wouldn't be able to do anything about it. Riddick really didn't want to be forced to hurt the kid.

The planet Sen had gotten them was four jumps from the last good supply outpost, which probably explained why something so good was still available. The usual independents couldn't have made a go of it and the Company wouldn't be interested until a more direct hyper path was discovered, if one even existed. It wasn't a total paradise but it was definitely at the top of the scale for colony planets.

Riddick held his breath and waited for something really ugly to pop up the way it had on T2 but it didn't happen. There were some large carnivores but nothing that couldn't be handled without even having to resort to the arsenal of illegal stuff. The worst was something that looked like a cross between a jackrabbit and an armadillo with a mouth like a shark that ran in packs. They lost two men and had over a dozen wounded in the first encounter with them but all it took was using flamethrowers on their dens and what was left moved out of the area. All in all, as was usual for the human race, the most deadly things on "Sanctuary", the name of their new home, were the colonists.

Everything went like clockwork in downloading the colony. Using the four planet-landers and working them all three shifts, they had the huge transport stripped in record time. Rafferty's men worked like ants on the ground as well and it wasn't long before they were bringing empty pods back to the Hole on every return trip.

But, as Riddick sat helping Jenna make the final plot adjustments for the routes to begin picking up the waiting families of the men already here and more of Rafferty's recruits, he couldn't shake a bad feeling that was beginning to make his gut twist and the back of his neck itch, a very bad feeling. Things had gone just too fucking easy. You didn't take on the Company and the Forces and pull off an operation of this size right under their noses and get away with it. Fucking geniuses or not, it just didn't happen. Maybe for now, maybe for this next run, maybe for the run after that; but sooner or later it was going to go fucking sideways and there was going to be a lot of bleeding and dying when it did.

The feeling in his gut told him it would be sooner than later.


	43. Chapter 43 Caught

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 43 – Caught

When the trouble came, if it wasn't at the worst time possible, it was pretty fucking close.

The Hole had made her first round of picking up families successfully. The new crew assignments had worked out well, not even the usual settling in problems that Riddick had expected. Syrus and Archer continued to share Syrus' original quarters. Riddick moved in with Jenna and turned a blind eye when Jack and Jeeter did the same. David retained his bachelor quarters and Teddy Bear was assigned his own apartment as well. Archer's security men were bunked in the double apartment. All the other permanent crew bunked four to an apartment with the exception of the six women who divided up three and three. By the end of it, there were also four newly certified doctors, who had decided that what the colony offered beat the shit out of anything they were going to get on their home worlds, bunking in one of the apartments.

During the pick-up of the first wave, every inch of the common areas with the exception of the kitchen, which was run cafeteria style, had been modified. The lower level was outfitted with convertible furniture; tables and benches by day, cots by night. Much of the gym and recreation area had been converted into two giant shower rooms and rows of toilet cubicles. Jenna had had the bunkroom off of the bridge refitted into a weight and practice room for the crew. By the end of the family pick-ups, these facilities were massively over-crowded including any open areas available; Jeff's now deserted lab, what had been Jenna's and Max's office suites and finally even two of the bays; with the growing population of the second wave.

Because of space limitations, the colonists had been required to pod their personal possessions and come onboard with little more than the clothing on their backs, one favorite toy each for the children and any musical instruments they had. All the rest was provided on a daily basis with the laundry being the recycling bin of the tailoring pod. The crew trained the first pick-ups to run the kitchen and the tailoring machine and then let them train subsequent arrivals unless some special problem came up. The colonists were also given open access to the ship's reading and vid libraries and the educational programming.

By the time they were halfway through the five month trek, Riddick was rubbing his scalp several times a day and wondering why the whole thing wasn't driving him nuts, especially the herd of young and not so young kids that seemed intent on following his every step, wide-eyed and worshipful, whenever they got the chance. 'Course he couldn't really bitch about it since Captain Djin ah had her own herd, Teddy Bear was absolutely mobbed, Jeeter and Jack had their following among the older ones interested in computers and the blade-jewelry and even Syrus had a few brave ones scurrying around corners to keep an eye on him. Riddick had the thought that they were probably waiting to see if the snarky doctor grew fangs during the night shift.

The only ripples were two babies being born, which Syrus handled with his usual deft efficiency, mothers and babies doing fine, thank you very much. But it was a relief for Riddick when all of them, their personal possessions pods, the load of housing pods and more pods of proscribed weapons and other supplies had been off loaded. In a little more than four weeks after arrival, everyone was settled in and the colony was holding its official founding celebration.

That's when the trouble came. Every lander, including the yacht, was on the ground and only two people were manning the Hole when the three heavy troop transports barreled out of hyper and closed on Sanctuary at top speed.

As the alarm came in from the Hole, people began to run in every direction. It could have been taken for chaos if you didn't notice that most of the adults and older children were headed for the official building pods and the arsenals while the few remaining colonist in that age group were gathering up the younger children and herding them toward the underground shelters that had been dug as bunkrooms for the initial arrivals.

Riddick ran for the landers in the closest to a panic that he had ever felt. Jenna was riding the bridge with only Jeeter to help her. The little man hadn't felt up to partying after his last therapy session and Jenna had insisted on staying because she wouldn't leave the Hole without a pilot and she could also handle it if Jeeter had a bad reaction to that latest therapy. She had all but ordered Riddick down and assigned him the task of seeing to it that no one lifted off a lander until they were stone cold sober. Jack had gone down because Jeeter wouldn't have her missing the party just because of him.

As Riddick blasted the BC out of the atmosphere, he could see the Hole far out ahead, running at top speed toward the transports. Jenna must have been moving while she sent the alert. And she wasn't running invisible! She was trying to make the transports concentrate on the Hole and keep them away from the colony as long as possible.

The lead ship took her challenge but, even though the Hole was more than twice the size of the transport, the other two transports left the one to deal with her and kept coming. It was the hardest thing that Riddick had ever done when he called the other three landers into formation behind him and headed toward a second transport rather than going after the Hole and Jenna.

The next fucking awful surprise came as Riddick arranged his fighters for attack. All were fully crewed which was a relief. He was solo, not having waited for anyone else to catch up to him before lifting off, but didn't want anyone else being that stupid. He had no problem that Teddy Bear was piloting one, and not much with Syrus flying the second but, Fucking Hell, Jack was riding the controls of the third.

The only thing that gave Riddick any hope as he brought the four small ships of his squadron against the huge transport was that it became obvious that this wasn't a Forces or Spec-Op operation and whoever it was, probably Company mercs, they hadn't done their homework or had underestimated the value of the small fighters. The transport was carrying no fighters of its own and except for a couple of warning shots basically ignored them until it was almost too late.

Making themselves electronically invisible, they had ripped huge chunks out of the transport and killed her main bridge before someone in the auxiliary bridge must have gotten smart and started laying down blanket fire from all its weapons ports. Teddy Bear was hit and sitting dead in space when Riddick called off the attack and pulled Syrus and Jack back with him. It was hopeless, there just wasn't anything that the remaining three small ships could do but sit and watch as the transport prepared to make its landing on Sanctuary as the third transport had already done.

Then, as it passed Teddy Bear's position, the little lander suddenly came to life. With that strange stretching of time that accompanies horrifying events, Riddick watched the small ship imbed itself in the engine section of the transport. Then, what could only have been the lander's self-destruct program engaging blew the whole aft end off of the transport and sent a shock wave of smaller explosions the length of the ship until all that remained was a useless husk. It wouldn't have worked that well except for the fact that Teddy Bear had been piloting the second hyper-capable lander and her self-destruct was rigged to her hyper engines.

Riddick was still trying to deal with this devastation when he was jerked away from all thoughts of Teddy Bear's heroic sacrifice by Jack's voice coming through the com.

"I'm hit Bro. Holed by a piece of the transport. I've got damaged controls and I'm losing air, bad. I'm going to try and take her planet-side. Love you, Bro."

He tried to answer her but either her com had died or she had cut it off. He watched her hit the atmosphere ugly but still with a chance of making it if her controls weren't too fucked. Then she just disappeared off of his screen. He could only hope, a very dim hope, that it was because of atmospheric interference or her failing systems.

But, there was nothing he could do about it. He called down to the colony to report the lander down and ask for a search, when possible. At least there was someone still manning the com there and she only sounded frightened not completely terrified as she took the message.

Then Riddick turned his scans away to look for the Hole. It took a few long anxious minutes. The battle with the transport must have been a running one because she was a long way from where they engaged. But … she was there! And she was alone! There was a wide field of debris behind her and she was limping slowly back toward them. She was wounded but alive. He opened the com and pinged her. Jenna answered him with one terse order.

"See if you can do something about that bastard that made it planet-side until I get there." Then, "Oh, shit, love, we're screwed. Check the gate."

Riddick focused his scans on the area of the hyper gate. A small armada of eight ships was appearing and grouping up there. They began to move in-system but at a more cautious speed than the transports had, scanning on all sides. Riddick could tell when they spotted the debris field and then the Hole. They altered course toward them and then began broadcasting their ID's loud and clear. The Forces had arrived.

Jenna, still moving toward Sanctuary, began to swing the huge bulk of the Hole around to face the new invaders. "What's going on, Rick? If these are Forces ships, who did we just dust?"

Riddick, with Syrus close on his tail, maneuvered to form up with her. "Probably Company mercs."

"Not Spec-Ops?"

"We're not that good, sweet thing. And we won't even get a shot off against these guys. Go invisible. Try to sneak around them and get to the gate. I'll be right behind you. Sorry Syrus. You and your crew will have to take your chances on the planet until we can come back for you."

"Just get her out of here. I will endeavor to survive."

Jenna broke in, "Syrus, do as Rick ordered. Rick, you're making this jump alone. Too much of my nav is gone to attempt the gate and I'm pretty sure that I've lost some of the hyper controls as well." Then when Riddick and Syrus stayed in formation heading for her, "I said get out of here. That's an order!"

"Then I'm committing mutiny, sweet thing."

"As am I, Captain, my Captain."

When Jenna continued to protest, Riddick cut his com. As he got close enough for a visual on the Hole, he couldn't suppress a shudder. She was a mess. The bridge was definitely holed. Jenna, bless her beautiful, not-quite-genius brain, must have moved to the auxiliary bridge immediately after setting course for the transports. Of the four bays only one, at the engineering end, had survived. The engine section had taken plenty of hits as well. More of the pods were damaged or completely missing than not. But they had done their job because it looked like her central core was intact. A desperate but maybe possible plan began to form in Riddick's mind. He opened his com again.

"Jenna, can you and Jeeter get to the surviving bay? Syrus and his crew can get on board and then jettison his lander and I can take you all on board the BC for a run for the gate."

"Not possible. I show pressure loss in the central corridor. We can't get to the bay and Syrus wouldn't have any safe place to be while jettisoning. Will you please just get yourself out of here!"

"No. Now, … "

Riddick was cut off by a new set of ship's ID's blaring through on all channels. His scans showed new arrivals just exiting the gate. But no silent running here. They were screaming their identities as they came and were coming fast. The end count was six lean fast heavy cruisers. This was becoming a fucking circus. These were Patrol.

Jenna came on the com again. "Switch to the unsecured channel, listen in and follow my lead. We may have a chance here."

Riddick had no idea what she was planning but he sure as hell didn't have any way out. He opened the channel, his curiosity escalating as the Hole began broadcasting a completely new ship's ID that she had never used before.

"This is the colony ship White Cliffs of Dover calling Forces and Patrol Commanders. Repeat, this is the colony ship White Cliffs. Our colony is under attack by raiders. Two have been destroyed but one is on the ground. We are too damaged to continue. Can you assist us? Repeat, we have a raider transport on the ground. Can you assist us?"

Fuck! It was the ultimate in gutsy moves. Riddick held his breath then breathed a sigh of relief as the Patrol vessels accelerated to what must have been their maximum speed, bearing down on them and incidentally on the Forces ships as well, and a new voice came over the com.

"This is Commander Sikes of the Patrol Ship Excalibur calling Forces Commander. Will you take the raider or shall we?"

After a nerve-racking pause, another new voice answered. "This is Operations Commander Bates of the FS Breaker. Be advised that we are here to deal with a colony revolt and that said transport is the property of the legal owners of the colony."

There was no time lapse. Sikes answered Bates immediately. "Then your info is incorrect Operations Commander. The ownership of this colony is in dispute. We have been sent on orders of the Central Worlds Supreme Court to see that the matter is settled in the Court and not by belligerent action. This is a Patrol matter not Forces. I offer you the chance to test your command on the transport, which is part of a documented mercenary operation, only as a courtesy. Should you not wish to engage, I ask that you withdraw your forces immediately. I also advise you that a transcript of this exchange is being hyper transmitted to the Court as we speak."

As he was speaking, the Patrol Commander had taken further precautions in case his political threat wasn't enough. His cruisers were now in perfect positions, at the rear and both flanks, to cut the larger Forces command to pieces before they could maneuver to attack him. Riddick heard the anger in Bates voice as the Forces officer gave in.

"Since, as you say, this is a Patrol matter, we will leave you to it. End trans."

After the Forces vessels were on their way to the gate, Sikes dispatched two cruisers to deal with the transport, left another of his cruisers on outer guard and closed the other three around the Hole, now the White Cliffs of Dover, and Riddick's and Syrus' ships.

"Captain of the White Cliffs of Dover, do you require assistance in achieving planet orbit and disembarking your crew?"

That last part didn't sound good to Riddick. He listened very carefully to Jenna's answer.

"I can make orbit, Commander Sikes, but cannot disembark. My crew consists of my Third Officer and myself and we are trapped on the auxiliary bridge. It will require repairing my ship's central corridor before the remaining bay will be accessible. I will also require one of my remaining auxiliary ships to disembark and request that one of my pilots be allowed to replace me as my ship's controls are damaged and I do not trust the automatics to keep her in a stable orbit. But let me introduce myself properly, I am Captain Djin ah Blakeney."

"A pleasure, Captain Blakeney. I will have a repair crew sent over as soon as you achieve orbit. I will however, ask you to order your auxiliary ships to proceed to the planet's surface. I will provide my Captain's Yacht to disembark you and your officer. I have no objections to one of your pilots remaining on your ship as long as it is not a hyper capable one. If you will transmit your crew roster, I will locate one as quickly as possible. Be assured that, other than the repair crew, no members of the patrol shall board your vessel. I will respect your ship's privacy until such time as its proper ownership is established by the Court."

"That is acceptable, Commander Sikes. I had not known that our colony was being disputed. I understand your position and appreciate the courtesy you are extending." Then her voice changed to one of command, "First Officer Wade, Chief Medical Officer Black, please follow the Commander's orders and set down at the colony. I expect you to cooperate with the Patrol and to make sure that the colony leaders, Mr. Sen and Mr. Rafferty, both understand what has happened and our situation and do so as well. My compliments to you both for your actions today. I will see you on the ground, gentlemen. End trans."

There was nothing Riddick could do but follow orders. He had been too interested in the face-off between Sikes and Bates and then the conversation between Sikes and Jenna to take time to analyze where it left his side of things hanging. Now, he realized that while the bleeding and dying would be over, they were still caught. But he'd been caught before. He was still alive and Jenna was still alive and … maybe … just maybe … so was Jack. A lot of things could happen before the Patrol got anybody to slam.

He found that that thought was a little optimistic when he landed the BC and let down her ramp. An armed escort of eight Patrolmen was waiting for him and he was taken directly to one of the Patrol cruisers. After being strip searched and issued a pair of standard prison coveralls, he was locked in her brig. He didn't know if Syrus and his crew got the same treatment since Syrus had landed at the other end of the colony. However, it was a good bet that they had. Riddick checked out his cell for any possible weapons materials that the designers had over looked. Finding none, he settled into slam-mode, patiently waiting until someone made a mistake.

No one did. For the next two weeks, Riddick's meals arrived through a sliding drawer without him even catching a glimpse of whoever delivered them. All dishes and utensils were flush-disposable and the drawer disappeared as soon as he had emptied it and didn't reappear until the next meal arrived. Fresh coveralls were delivered daily, with his evening meal, and the used ones disposed of the same way as the dishes. Bed linens were handled the same way but weekly instead of daily.

He was never removed from the cell. It contained a shower, with blow-dry and soap, etc, dispensers, and lavatory facilities. It was also large enough for him to have a reasonable amount of exercise. He could even manage pull-ups using the double-bunk bed frame. When he loudly requested reading materials, a section of wall immediately moved aside to reveal a sealed, fuck-proof screen and keyboard that only gave him access to a reading and vid library. He figured he was being watched as well as audio monitored. The lights waxed and waned on the usual sixteen hours on / eight hours off schedule but the library and vids were never unavailable. For a slam, it was a class operation.

But, Riddick wasn't finding it as easy to maintain his patience as he always had. He had too much to think about, too much to worry about. The worst were about Jack, not knowing if she had made it or not. His thoughts about Jenna ran a close second. He knew she was alive and Sikes had sounded like the kind who went by the book with no sick games or abuse allowed. But going by the book could have put Jenna into a cell just like Riddick's or speeding back to Central Worlds, if the Court ordered it. If that last happened before Riddick could find some way to escape, it might take him a long time to find her again.

Also, he didn't know how much support she had left except for possibly Syrus and Jeeter. The colony, what little he had been able to scan on the way down, didn't look as bad as he expected, no obvious damage to the buildings. The transport had grounded too far from the colony to use her ship's guns to any effect but he didn't have time to take a good look at her either.

But buildings weren't people. For all he knew, that one transport of mercs had been able to kill just about everybody. He had come to realize that most of Rafferty's people were not, had never been, mercs. They were Forces veterans but some of them a long time out. They were tough, they were trained, they were fighting for their own but they could have been just too outnumbered for that to matter.

At the end of that first week, Riddick was questioned. He still didn't see anyone. The questioner was a disembodied, male voice over the com in his cell. He was asked detailed questions about the merc attack, then about the formation and establishment of the colony and finally about his own personal history. That last one put him on alert. He had been fingerprinted and DNA swabbed with the strip search. There was no reason for the questions about his history unless they were onto the group and quite likely Richard B. Riddick as well. Fuck!

Riddick silently thanked Jenna for the long hours of grilling and the unexpected quizzes she had put him through on the details of the history that had been invented for him as well as the cover story invented for the group. He hadn't had to know much about that last, only what would be expected from a hired pilot who had then decided to stay with the colony. However, Jenna had had him memorize more of her own personal invented history, as much as lovers might discuss while occupying the same bed.

What he said seemed to satisfy the 'voice' since there were no repeat sessions but that didn't mean anything. He was still sitting in a cell. Nor did the 'voice' give him any information on what had happen to the colony. He didn't ask about Jack directly, only about the lost lander and her crew, because he didn't want to draw any attention to Jack if he was already in shit. But even on that subject the 'voice' gave the same "I'm not authorized to give any information." excuse. Fucker!

By the end of the second week, the thin veneer of Rick Wade was fast disappearing and Richard B. Riddick, your worst nightmare, was coming back with a vengeance and nothing but vengeance on his mind. He had tried to do it righteous. All it had gotten him was the same old fuck-over. But not only him. A whole bunch of good people had been fucked-over right along with him.

And it wasn't some omni-what-the-shit thing, twist of fate, god-wasn't-watching fuck-over. Somebody had done it to them. You didn't follow a ship through space, particularly hyperspace like you tail some goof in a ground car. You have to have a tracking signal to follow. But the Hole's security system would have reported that. Someone had to have given the bad guys the colony's location.

The list of people who knew those coordinates was a very short one. When you figured in the fact that the Central Worlds Supreme Court was involved in the mix, that list shortened down to one. Only Sen would have set up some crazy-assed plot to somehow twist the Company around by luring them into a legal battle over the ownership of the colony and bringing the Patrol into it against them.

Maybe it was a good plan as long as it was only the group involved. Still ok with the few that had been added at New Mecca. With that few people, they would have had no problem getting out of the way when it went to shit and the mercs showed up. But Sen had no right to have let Rafferty bring all his people in, no right to play god with their lives too.

If Riddick hated God, he hated fuckers who played god even worse. Oh, yeah, Riddick would escape and he would find Jenna, no matter how long it took. But, on the way, he would give Sen a one-way ticket to a face-to-face with the original.


	44. Chapter 44 Betrayal Revealed

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 44 – Betrayal Revealed

Jenna paced the housing pod assigned her; length then breadth; back and forth, round and round. Sikes had left her free with the run of the colony but she didn't dare go outside of her pod in the mood that she was in. She wanted to kill something, two particular somethings. Not being able to get to those two, she would probably fracture all over the next person who was unlucky enough to cross her path.

Teddy Bear was dead. The sweet man who had never brought anything but a smile, good words and gentle calmness to any situation had killed himself, his crew and his ship to take out one of the transports.

Jack was in the infirmary onboard the White Cliffs, a relaxation of the rules allowed by Sikes for the worst of the colony's injured since he had to admit that Syrus' skills and equipment were hands high above his own medical facilities. She had ordered the two men of her crew into the strapped down safety of the cabin bunks and brought her ship down hot and flat to a crash landing only a short click from the colony. She was in a medically induced coma. Even though Syrus promised that she would make it; all bones properly knit, brain intact and not too many scars where they would show; Jenna knew that the probability of memory loss if not worse was still very high.

Almost a hundred of Rafferty's people were dead, including his Charlie. Sasha had died protecting the children. Jeff had lost a leg and was in the White Cliffs' infirmary as well. David and Archer were walking wounded along with Rafferty and the majority of his people who had survived. Too many of those should have still been infirmary patients but for the necessity of reserving those beds for the most critically wounded. Even a few of the children had been injured though, thankfully, not seriously.

The colony was up for grabs in the Court.

As horrific as all that was, Jenna had her own personal hell as well. She had stepped off of Sikes' yacht onto the surface of Sanctuary still confident that Jack, Jeeter and, most importantly, Riddick would soon be released from Patrol custody and free and clear of all charges. First, she had no doubt that the ownership of the colony as registered would prevail in any court. Second, the Patrol was known to be quite lenient about illegal weapons when it came to first-in colonies and they certainly wouldn't want to advertise that they had failed to prevent the merc invasion.

Most important was all the work she had gone to separating her ships' from any connection to the colony other than as hired help after their initial construction. This would leave Jack, Jeeter and Riddick in the clear. The Patrol didn't go after the small fish. It might also complicate matters and perhaps remove her a few steps from the initial purchase of the weapons, as well, and any sanctions other than disarming the ships that the Patrol might levy. She might even be able to pull David and Syrus, who had signed on as ship's crew in under this umbrella as well.

She almost immediately discovered that this was not the case. The whole house of cards that the group had built was threatening to come down around their ears. The greatest shock was that Riddick was sitting in a cell in one of the Patrol cruisers, suspected of being exactly who he was.

Sen was one of those people that Jenna wanted to kill. Though he had assured Jenna that this court action was according to plan, that he had picked this plum of a colony right from under the Company's nose for just that purpose; as had been the appearance of the Patrol; the attack by the Company mercs had not. In Sen's master plan, the Patrol had arrived before the Company could move on the colony.

Sen also hadn't anticipated the connection of the colony to the Institute escape this early in his game or the Forces making any move to openly back the Company. Oh, he had intended that their identities come into question. It was part of his plans to use the colony dispute to blow the case against the Company for control of the Institute wide open by dragging it into the Supreme Court as well. But only those of the group were to be threatened and only later, much later, during the court action. But, that had also gone to hell. So much for master plans.

The same miscalculation that had caused Sen's plotting to go awry as concerned the mercs was also the reason that the identities of Riddick, Jack and Jeeter - most especially Riddick's - were being scrutinized as well with microscopic diligence. All of this death, destruction and suffering and Jenna's own personal hell could be laid at the door of one person, the other that Jenna couldn't get to – Ben.

The betrayal was too great. As was the cost in totally innocent lives, people who had never even known Ben until arriving at the colony long after his actions had set in motion the cause of their deaths. All the affection that Jenna had ever felt for Ben had turned into its exact opposite, a deep bitter hatred. Gone was Jenna the psychiatrist, the psychologist, the therapist. Equally gone was Jen the big sister.

Nor would Jenna take any blame for what he had done. Ben had had a better shot at becoming a functioning, 'safe' sociopath than almost any other had ever had. He had the control, the ability to follow the rules. Nor had he done what he had in any uncontrollable blackout fugue. It had been a choice. He had done it consciously, with detailed plotting and execution and malicious intent. He didn't even have Sen's excuse of 'for the greater good'. He had acted out of petty revenge.

First, during the confusion of the initial pick-ups and colonization, he had bypassed all of Jenna's precautions, disabled some of the security fail-safes and re-installed the tarantula before they had left to pick up the families. This is what had allowed the Company to locate them, to follow them back to Sanctuary and to arrange the merc attack. The Forces had been keeping a hard eye on the Company and followed the mercs in to protect their own interests. The Patrol had been watching the Company on the orders of the Court and had increased the size of their assigned force when the interest of the Forces had been detected as well. But that Forces interest had kept the Patrol from being hot on the heels of the mercs and preventing the devastation they had wrought on the colony.

The colony had survived without their help. The one transport that had managed to land had done so a little too far from the colony to use its ship's weapons, probably somebody's orders to capture rather than destroy. The colonist had no such mandate. One of the younger men, a Keller pilot in training, had used the yacht as Teddy Bear had used his lander, crashing her into the transport's main troop exit bay and detonating her self-destruct. The yacht was a lot smaller and without hyper engines. She didn't destroy the transport but she destroyed any access to the bay.

About fifteen percent of the mercs were killed and another forty or so percent trapped inside the transport with only the smaller emergency hatches for exits. While the main body of the colony fought the mercs already outside, snipers made those smaller hatches death traps. Only twenty of the mercs had made it into the colony compound proper. The women protecting the children had killed every one of them. Two other women besides Sasha had died there.

All the Patrol had done was to collect the surviving mercs, mostly from the transport, and sort them into their cruisers' brigs and infirmaries. They had taken care of disposing of the bodies, as well. The mercs were cremated aboard one of the cruisers. Not even their ashes would be allowed to remain on the planet. The Patrol also did the digging to turn the two graves of the men lost to the pack predators into too large a cemetery for such a young colony as Sanctuary.

Ben's second betrayal was a core dump on the group, Riddick, Jack and Jeeter and their changed identities. He had begun transmitting this to the Patrol Commander on a Patrol secure channel the second Sikes had finished his conversation with Jenna and the landers had been ordered back to Sanctuary. Ben had been monitoring the transmissions all during the battle and, since they hadn't died, used the only way he had left to destroy them.

The look of vicious glee on Ben's face when Sikes had informed them that First Officer Wade had been incarcerated and would remain so until these allegations had been investigated, made Jenna want to rip his throat out then and there. The only satisfaction that she got was that the expressions on the faces of Syrus and Jeeter, as murderous as her own, made Sikes put Ben in protective custody and, when it was discovered that Ben was also responsible for the mercs, he ended up in a cell just like Riddick's. The Patrol Commander didn't like traitors. However, that didn't stop him from making his investigation a very thorough one, especially in the case of Riddick.

There were only two factors that might save them. First, Ben had set up the ID's before he had turned against them and, loathe as Jenna was to admit it now, he was the best. The second was a mistake on Ben's part. He had hidden duplicate files of all of the ID manipulations to back up his story. What he hadn't counted on was Jenna and Jeeter adding to the battle damage slightly by dumping, wiping and even shorting out the hardware for all memory in the ship's system except for the 'official' ship's log and necessary nav, com, environmental and engineering functions while waiting for the Patrol repair crew to get them out.

Jenna would have loved to have seen Ben's face, personally, when he tried to retrieve his proof. But the report of her pilot on duty had been almost as satisfying. Sikes' man had threatened to put Ben in a straightjacket if he didn't stop raving and trying to rip up the auxiliary bridge with his bare hands. That he had stopped, made Jenna wonder just how long his 'blackout fits' had been faked as an excuse for not controlling himself.

She damned herself as a fool. She knew how manipulative sociopaths could be but had let her personal attachment undermine that knowledge. Well screw it! She was only a few years older than Ben. The Institute had had no right to set it on the shoulders of a twelve-year-old to deal with that sort of personality in the first place. Ben should have been institutionalized in a totally different facility. The Institute had been more interested in the possible income from his inventions than anything else. But that was over and done. The only problem Jenna was interested in was Riddick.

She had to get him out of that cell. But even that would only be a short reprieve if she couldn't manage a way to get him away from Sanctuary and the Patrol completely. If they put him back in prison for who he was, that would be the worst because the prison would be the worst they could find. But even if he was imprisoned as Rick Wade for aiding and abetting the group in their myriad of crimes, it wouldn't be much different. The proscribed weapons alone were enough to garner a sentence of forty to life if the Patrol didn't decide to be lenient. After the revelations of his plans, she couldn't trust Sen to see that that didn't happen. If Riddick went back to prison under any name, it would almost certainly be the end of that part of him that Carolyn Fry had somehow awakened on T2.

The irony of that wasn't lost on Jenna. Riddick had begun his hajj, though he would really hate that term being used for it, because of one woman's plea for him to stay and save them. He might now end it and return to what he had been before because he wouldn't listen to another woman's plea for him not to stay. Oh why hadn't he run when he had the chance? Jenna would rather have lost him that way than this.

While Jenna had gone through every level of emotional hell possible, Sikes spent almost two weeks having his personnel put people to the question. Everyone Ben had accused of having false identities, only the comatose Jack excluded, were grilled on their full personal histories. At least, after he had finished this questioning and repeatedly denied having known Wade prior to being hired as ship's crew, Jeeter was allowed to return to Jack's side. There was no such respite for the others.

The members of the group had additionally been questioned about their version of Ben's personal history, the ways that they had come together as a group, the reasons that they had decided to colonize, the means and methods they had used to procure their ships and equipment, Jenna's hiring of Elric 'Rick' Wade and Michael 'Jeeter' Lazarus, and finally their encounter with Rafferty, Jack, Nagia and the New Meccan children, and Rafferty's recruitment of people to join the colony.

Rafferty was questioned about his New Meccan passengers, particularly Jack, he had been paid to take them off of New Mecca for political reasons and had no other knowledge of their histories; his encounter with the group, they had answered the distress signal he had been forced to broadcast due to engine problems; and his decision to begin recruiting people for the colony, the simple truth served for that one.

Nagia exempted herself from questioning quickly by pretending almost total ignorance of anything other than a basic functioning vocabulary in any language but New Meccan and Sikes didn't consider her important enough to bother with once she had confirmed the political nature of the problems on New Mecca. Syrus also minimized his by refusing to leave his patients for the procedure. After conducting most of the questioning over various operations, his inquisitioners ceased and desisted.

Everyone held to their cover stories and denied all of Ben's 'fantasies'. Even Sen had agreed to do so once he had been threatened with violent bodily harm for having included Rafferty's people in his dubious plotting. Allegations had been raised that he had wanted 'body-count' to use against the company in court. An unmarked grave somewhere in the forest didn't appeal to him nearly as much as a rather ostentatious statue in the center of the 'Capital City' of the colony naming him its founder.

Oddly enough, Sikes had personally handled the questioning of Jenna about her battle with the transport. Still, it was a fairly brief session, more for the record and possibly a military man's interest in such things. He seemed impressed with her tactic of playing the almost helpless colony ship in a running game of tag until Jeeter had every vital area of the transport targeted before turning and, using her pod structure to absorb the worst of its fire to get right on top of it for a massive broadside of killing salvos. He seemed more interested in Riddick's conduct during the battle, especially his refusal to take the hyper-capable BC and make an escape attempt when the White Cliffs couldn't.

She had also been questioned only briefly about the switch of the ships to her private ownership, with a long-term contract with the colony, as a settlement for her services. The reasoning she gave, though not the truth, was very believable. Private ownership would allow the ships to provide significant income from commercial shipping contracts that the colony would not have been allowed to enter into, the laws limiting government shipping to colony exports and imports only and then only until commercial shipping could be established. Turning the ships over to her had also protected the colony from the Company or some other commercial entity demanding those shipping rights to and from the colony.

However, the greatest role in discrediting Ben fell to her. Part of her cover story, keeping to reality as much as possible since she had wished to retain her profession at the time, was that she had initially been hired by the group as Ben's therapist. She was required to give endless pages of testimony about his mental history and the possible causes of his alleged delusions. She hit heavily on the problem of patients becoming fixated on their therapists and the difficulty of recognizing this once she had become a member of the group.

Her testimony also included the fact that her own studies of the criminal psyche had included Richard B. Riddick and that Ben had found that particular subject fascinating to an undesirable degree. This was her explanation for his including the dead criminal in his fantasy construction. She explained away his knowledge of Imam, Prince Casmir and Princess Mira with the tales that Jack and Rafferty had told him of New Mecca. It was a yoyo snow job of the highest caliber.

They were also managing to secretly monitor all of Sikes' official communications. He had not only run the most comprehensive ID checks possible, he had also attempted to contact Imam, Prince Casmir and Princess Mira for conformation of the cover story for Jack. The answer he got to that one was not only amusing in that he was denied those witnesses but also gratifying for the information it gave everyone about their recent shipmates. Sikes was advised that the political situation on New Mecca was not something that the Patrol wished to stir in any way, particularly by attempting to question the New Emir, his bride or his personal religious advisor.

But when that message had been received, three days ago, a second message had been received almost on its heels in an encryption that they couldn't decipher. After that the questioning had abruptly ceased and Sikes had begun sending and receiving messages in that encryption, a great many of them, with no further mention of the colony in any unencrypted communications. After a day of that, Sikes had sent an escort to bring Max to the Excalibur. Max hadn't returned and the encrypted communications had become almost constant.

So, Jenna was pacing; pacing and worrying, worrying and pacing. Max had an agenda of his own and now, removed from anyone's ability to influence him, he could easily revert to it. The increase in encrypted communication since his disappearance suggested that he was definitely up to something. Also, Riddick's time in that damned cell was stretching beyond what she could tolerate, possibly what he could tolerate as well.

Jenna had barely slept more than an hour at a stretch for those three days. She was living on caffeine and adrenalin. She needed someone to talk to but the only two she would trust, Syrus and Jeeter, weren't available. Even with the help of the newly recruited doctors, Syrus was still up to his chin in patients. Jeeter was holding vigil over Jack. Jenna was deep into further futile attempts to form a plan for Riddick's rescue and a subsequent escape from the planet when the com beeped and caused her to start so violently she threw her coffee cup half-way across the pod.

It was Sikes, … requesting permission to visit her in her pod. He made it sound like a social request rather than an official one. Shit! What was the man up to? There was only one way to find out. She quickly agreed to his request. As she cleaned up the pieces of the cup and the spilled coffee, she mulled over all the impressions that she had formed of the man in their few brief face-to-face encounters.

Physically he was beyond impressive, an almost seven foot tall wall of solid muscle. He was older, probably in his fifties, though that was hard to judge with those who spent their life in space. She suspected that he had worked his way up through the ranks and hadn't let sitting behind a commander's desk soften him one little bit. He was also extremely intelligent, a dangerous man with whom to play the kind of games they were playing. And, he was too damn by-the-book to be arranging 'dates' with suspects under his jurisdiction but flexible enough to extend his investigation beyond that book if he thought it was necessary.

Jenna made two more accommodations for the impending visit. She made a fresh pot of coffee and set up a proper service tray. Then, she added a piece of jewelry to her attire, a lovely jeweled and engraved collar-necklace with a long rectangular matching pendent attached by a snap-away ring. She wished for more but Sikes had disarmed the colonists, putting his own men on predator patrol. Jeeter's gift would just have to do. Also, she still had her earrings.

Whatever Sikes was up to, his pretense at a social visit could work to her benefit as well. By stepping out of his official persona, he had made his subsequent actions vulnerable to question should something 'unfortunate' happen to him as a result. He might be the biggest human being Jenna had ever seen but, if going through him would get Jenna to Riddick, she would do her best to do that. Of course, if she thought about that idea too long, she would have to start questioning her own sanity.

She moved the coffee table so that it would be more of an impediment to someone seated on the couch than in the side chair and arranged the service tray on it. Then, she sat in the side chair, facing the hatch of the pod, and tried to force herself to appear as relaxed as possible. She was fairly certain that she just looked tired beyond reason but that would work almost as well. When the expected knock came, she called, "Come in" in as neutral a voice as she could manage.

The hatch open and Sikes shifted through it with a quick, easy grace and shut it behind him. As he removed his uniform cap and tucked it between his arm and his side, his eyes made a seemingly casual scan of the room before alighting on Jenna. Jenna was quite sure that he could now give a detailed description of every inch of it. A dark amusement glittered in his stone gray eyes for a second before he accepted her gestured invitation and seated himself on the couch, setting his cap beside him. He accepted her offer of coffee, as well, but waved her back with a, "Please, allow me.", and served them both.

She couldn't be sure if this was a courtesy due to her strained demeanor or a natural caution on Sikes' part. However, she noted that he prepared his coffee with the same mixture of cream and sugar that she requested and sat his cup on his knee, untasted, until she had taken a good sip of hers. Sikes might be a courteous man but he was also a very careful one. Well, Jenna could be cautious, too. She continued to sip her coffee in silence. Sikes had asked for this meeting. He could damn well be the one to make the first move. It didn't take long for him to do just that.

"It seems that the Company has really stepped in it this time. Too many people in high places have been waiting a long time to find a way to put a leash on it and your Mr. Sen is giving them the perfect chance to do that. Much as I enjoy the thought of that happening, the politics was getting too deep for an old soldier. I thought that I might find the conversation more pleasant with someone closer to my own kind."

Jenna wasn't accepting that one at face value. Though she had known, with that increase in encrypted communications, that Sen had to be up to his usual machinations, having Sikes make it all too clear with that term 'politics' sent her heart into her throat and her adrenaline levels sky high again. It was time for flight or fight and, with Riddick's fate hanging in the balance, Jenna didn't have a choice. She fingered the pendent of her necklace as she went on the attack.

"I wouldn't think that one battle that was won more by blind luck and the stupidity of my enemy would exactly qualify me for that, Commander. But, if it does, may I take the liberty of asking why my First Officer is still locked up while all the rest of us are given free range of the colony? Especially when we have proven that there is no truth in Ben's delusional accusations? That is what you've come here to discuss, isn't it?"

That somewhat amused glint was back in Sikes' eyes.

"Now, that's what I meant about someone more like me. You get right to the point. Therefore, I will do the same. Your Mr. Sen has found it beneficial to admit that Mr. Good was telling the truth as far as the identities of the members of your group are concerned but still insists that Mr. Michael Lazarus, Miss Jacqueline West and Mr. Elric Wade are not involved in this deception; that they are indeed only employees of the group that Mr. Good has included in his accusations because of his sexual fixations, first on you and subsequently on Miss Good, that Mr. Wade and Mr. Lazarus have interfered with. Our own independent psychiatric consultants have agreed that this is quite possible; that the destabilizing elements of the identity changes and environmental changes on Mr. Good could have caused him to add fantasy to reality in that manner.

"Now, as far as Mr. Lazarus and Miss West are concerned, no one particularly cares. They are not, shall we say, problematic. 'Could have' is good enough in their cases. However, Mr. Good's claim that Mr. Wade is in fact Richard B. Riddick is very problematic. That 'could have' becomes extremely shaky when it might mean turning a criminal like that loose again. I'm sure that you can understand why."

He paused briefly. Jenna didn't take the bait and remained silent. With a small straightening of his shoulders, Sikes continued.

"To be blunt about it, my superiors have dumped this ball of snakes in my lap. As far as they are concerned, they would be happy if Mr. Wade simply ceased to exist and the problem along with him. You should also know that your Mr. Sen is in agreement with them. Mr. Wade has no value in the games they are playing; just the opposite, in fact, as he could prove to be a rather large embarrassment. I thought I would talk to someone to whom he does have value before I decided whether or not to risk my future career and my retirement benefits on him."

Jenna's exhausted mind was in overload trying to deal with too much information given too quickly. Would Sen have revealed the group for what it was? Most definitely, since that had been his plan from the beginning. Would he have protected Jack's, Jeeter's and Riddick's new identities? Probably, since abetting a known felon of Riddick's reputation would be a definite negative in the eyes of the Court. But what was Sikes telling her with all the rest of it?

Cease to exist? That didn't sound like a threat to drop Riddick in a cell and forget about him. It sounded like cold blooded murder. But that couldn't be true. Riddick had said it himself; it was more profitable to lock criminals up than to execute them. Only Riddick wasn't just a criminal now. He was a possible political embarrassment, especially since it would take proper documentation to prove his real identity and imprison him again or even to imprison Rick Wade for crimes that the rest of the group wouldn't, couldn't, be charged with if the Court wished to make a clean ruling against the Company. People were murdered everyday for a lot less reason.

"What can I say to you, Commander, other than what I have already said, what Mr. Sen has also said, that Mr. Wade was not part of any identity deception? Is this all the 'honor' of the Patrol is worth, to destroy an innocent man for the sake of expediency? Or because of the paranoid fear of a ghost?"

Sikes ran the fingers of one hand through his short cropped graying hair. "As I thought, your battle with the transport was not a matter of blind luck. You have an innate sense of how to create a tactical advantage. However, there is one flaw in your attack this time. You see, Captain Blakeney, I saw Richard Riddick in person once, just after that Forces debacle that 'didn't happen'. We both were a lot younger but I know exactly who I have sitting in a cell in one of my cruisers."


	45. Chapter 45 A Confession

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 45 – A Confession

"I know exactly who I have sitting in a cell in one of my cruisers."

Jenna had always thought that the phrase 'blood ran cold' was an author's exaggeration. Now, she knew that it wasn't. In fact, it didn't describe the sensation by half. It was as if there wasn't a cell in her body that wasn't touched with the icy paralysis of hopeless dread. Added to the two weeks of anxiety, too much coffee and too little food and rest, it was more than her abused body could deal with. She barely made it to the kitchen sink before her stomach began expelling rancid coffee and bile.

It was down to bile only when a huge, warm hand covered her forehead and its mate began making soothing circles against the small of her back. It hit Jenna as the height of irony that her mind began to calm and her thoughts to return to some level of coherency from the touch of the enemy. … Perhaps the only enemy? … Sikes couldn't have told his superiors of his certainty of Riddick's identity, could he? If he had, why would he be here, in her private quarters, telling it to her? Jenna's hand strayed to her pendent once again. It would be so easy. Claim attempted blackmail, sexual assault – self defense.

Then the hand left her forehead, water began running into the sink and a damped towel was held in front of her face. Her mind cleared further. She let go of the pendent and took the towel. Riddick had paused, listening to the conversation of the men at the compound, to learn their motives before killing them. She would not do less. She had to know why Sikes was here. After rinsing her mouth straight from the faucet and wiping her face, she turned to him.

"What do you want?"

Sikes' eyes hardened for a moment. "You tempt me to find out just how much value you do put on Mr. Riddick."

Erotic electricity snapped and crackled around the man. My God, under that stiff uniform was a man so much like Riddick in so many ways, particularly that one. Jenna knew that Sikes wasn't talking about anything as prosaic as monetary gain. What had she done to herself that, ever since beginning this insanity, she kept attracting that reaction from strong, powerful men? But what frightened her, terrified her, was that, while McGhee had been nothing but an irritant, something in her, some deep instinct, was responding to Sikes.

Something in her recognized some of the same kindred spirit in him that she had found in Riddick. It made sense, of course, in a twisted way. As there was a fine line between genius and insanity, so was there a similar line between criminals and those suited to catch them. But this partially shared psyche bred animosity and denial as a buffer against the truth of it. That she could sense it so strongly in Sikes only made him all the more dangerous to Riddick. She couldn't keep this confused mess of emotions from showing as she backed away from him. Then his dark-steel eyes softened.

"However, what I want is what I have already asked for, some very good reasons why I should take the risk of not acting on what I know to be the truth. Now, get something to settle your stomach, food not pills, and let's sit down and talk about it."

Jenna couldn't argue with Sikes' diagnosis of what she needed. She punched up a large glass of milk and some saltine crackers on the side, all the while trying to understand what the man's motives could possibly be. She could have understood his asking for some profit for his silence but, though he had made it quite clear what that might be, he hadn't followed up on it. At least not yet he hadn't. And, perhaps, that had just been a ploy, something to throw her off balance even more than she already was. Maybe he wasn't as sure as he stated and needed to get her to confirm his suspicions. He could be wired seven ways from Sunday. Fuck! Well, hell, let the games begin. She settled back into the side chair again.

"Commander Sikes, if you truly believe that Rick is Riddick and have the mandate you claim from your superiors, I can't understand what you are doing here. What could anyone say in defense of the man described in Riddick's official files?"

Sikes poured himself another cup of coffee, no cream nor sugar this time. He didn't seem the least surprised at Jenna's evasive approach.

"Well now, that's the crux of the matter. The Riddick I saw all those years ago wasn't someone any good law abiding citizen would want living next door but he didn't match the official file. Hell, a blind man could have seen what a scape-goating gut-up that was. Then, as the years passed, he did seem to become just what they had accused him of being.

"Now, the stories I'm hearing from everyone, particularly the women and children that spent all that time aboard your ship coming here, don't match up again. Even the story Mr. Good tells about Riddick bringing Miss West and the Imam off of that hellhole, T2, doesn't match the official picture. Though his versions of what happened during both of Riddick's visits to New Mecca come closer, the fact that Rafferty survived not only the first but also the second doesn't.

"All that makes Riddick a very large enigma. I don't like enigmas. I also don't want to think that I'm anything like the Forces bastards that railroaded him in the first place. It would make it too unpleasant to look in the mirror to shave every morning and I don't look good in a beard. So what I want from you is any information you have that will help to explain that enigma, that will tell me who … or better said, what that man is no matter what name we call him."

Oh, God! Jenna didn't know what to do. Two of her own 'family' had just fucked her over royally and now … now this complete stranger was asking her to trust him? This … space cop, Commander Space Cop, wanted her to believe him when he told her that the only way she could help Riddick was to betray him. And she was tired … so very, very tired … of being expected to make such vital decisions about other people. She had begun doing it while most girls her age were deciding what dress to put on their dolly … and she was tired. But that was life, wasn't it. That was survival. She had just started a little earlier than most. And that meant that she should be better than most.

The bottom line was that Sikes could probably do whatever he wanted to do. Neither his superiors nor Sen would make any ripples in the 'big plan' they were concocting over the 'accidental' death of one man. For whatever reason, it was important to him to know what she knew of Riddick. If he was being righteous about his motives, she would have to betray Riddick's identity to convince him that Riddick was a good risk. If he wasn't, or if her arguments didn't convince him, … well she still had plan B and the murderous little blade hanging from her throat. In either case, she might find some way to use this to get Rick out of that cell and give them a chance at escaping. Oh, what the fuck and go for broke.

But first, a little more preparation. With the excuse that she was feeling a little chilled, Jenna rose and crossed to the environmental controls of the pod. She breathed a sigh of relief when Sikes didn't question the manual adjustment nor follow her to the control panel. She quickly adjusted the pod's temperature upwards but also toggled the switch that set all the controls to 'security'. Now the house controls, including the lights, the window shutters and the door locks, wouldn't obey any voice but hers. She should have thought of that precaution before but then she was still quite new to these kinds of games.

Seating herself again, Jenna started with her first fascination with Riddick; how she had noticed the discrepancies between the man in the psych profiles and the official records, that he was playing games with the yoyos that they were too stupid or too egotistical to recognize or too buried in the system to be willing to risk their careers to do so. She gave statistical proof that he would have had to have been sextuplets to be guilty of all the crimes that had been 'solved' by adding them to his record, that the only crimes he had ever actually been convicted of, other than the Forces charges, was the juvenile offence that had sent him into the Forces in the first place and his repeated prison breaks. She quoted his exemplary military record up to the events that had precipitated those initial charges.

More to give Sikes time to absorb all this but also because she found that the milk and crackers had only primed her stomach for more, Jenna halted long enough to punch up a full meal and more coffee. Sikes joined her, selecting a Jeeter-sized meal for himself. Jenna found herself amused that, with the Patrol Commander's massive bulk, this time she wouldn't be wondering how all that food was going to fit.

Once they had settled again, she continued with her first meeting with Riddick; that she hadn't known who he was but certainly did know what he was; that she had most probably used Riddick himself as the pattern for what she wanted as a guide into the new life she and the group were entering; of how he had convinced her that he did want a new start, a chance at living 'righteous' with his willingness to give up his shined sight for that chance. She did not include the fact that he hadn't actually been forced to do that.

Continuing, she was brutally honest about her own naiveté and how easily he could have taken advantage of that, could have profited at the groups expense in a million ways, but had instead honored his contract with her. She enumerated the many times that he had risked himself to stay with the group when he could easily have left them any time after receiving his new identity.

She told the absolute truth of what had happened at the compound; of what Syrus had told her of the second mission to New Mecca; of Riddick's raid on McGhee's station to save Jeeter and her, carefully not revealing its location. She told of how she had pleaded with Riddick to save himself when the Forces had appeared. Last, she told the story of T2.

"I don't know much of what happened. He admitted that he was going to leave alone, leave the others to die. But something that Carolyn Fry said to him, what I don't know, changed his mind and he went back with her to get Jack and Imam. Then the others were safely at the emergency lifeboat but he wasn't and Carolyn went back for him. She died trying to help him and he … he thinks that he owes it to her to make himself something worth that sacrifice."

"He said that?"

"No. Men like him don't say things like that. He said that he should have died there not her. And I think that that's what he's been trying to do ever since, make sure that the Richard B. Riddick in all your files did die there." The tears that Jenna had been struggling so hard to push back began running down her cheeks. "But he won't stay dead, not if you keep Rick in that cell much longer. Don't you understand! What you are so afraid of was dying and you're resurrecting it!"

Then she pulled her resolve tight again. "No, he's no angel, no perfect solid citizen. He never had the chance to be that. From the day he was born, they set him on the outside looking in; they wouldn't let him join the club. But from the day I first met him, he has done his best to use the talents they forced him to develop to survive for the right reasons; for the same reasons that you and your men use those same talents."

Jenna knew that last comparison was a risk. Sikes might find it quite odious to have his honorable profession put in the same category as anything to do with a convicted criminal. She added an appeal to Sikes self interest to sweeten it.

"And if you'd notice, Sanctuary isn't being built by or for those solid citizens you are so fond of. Rafferty's people are just the same as Rick, people that nobody really wants living next door. Hell, Commander, you might just want to reserve a homestead for yourself for that retirement you are so worried about risking. I wouldn't imagine that Patrolmen feel all that comfortable surrounded by the sheep they protect either."

Sikes chuckled. "Sheep, huh? Well, not an image that I haven't had myself. You know until I met your group I would have put Institute inmates into that category, on the deep end of that category. I have now come to suspect that many of you are kept inside not to protect you but to protect the rest of the citizenry from you. I have met seasoned con-artists who weren't nearly as adept at trying to manipulate me as you are.

"And you are right about it, Rafferty and his people and how this colony might appeal to Patrol personnel as well. There have been requests for printouts of retirement status from more than a few crewmen getting close to that age, some not so close. But wouldn't making me an offer of that homestead be counterproductive? Why would I want to turn someone like Riddick loose on my own future home?"

Jenna played her ace. "What safer place can you think of to give him his chance at redemption? Here, he can belong, does already. Here he can finally stop being that lobo menace and become a functioning member of a society. Oh, it may not be a central worlds' version of a proper society but it is much more civilized than any offered to him before. And don't tell me that the Patrol isn't going to be keeping a careful eye on this colony for a long time to come."

"But how can I be sure that he'll stay with the colony?"

Jenna had had enough of the game. "You can't. But then you can't be sure that I will either. Nor Syrus for that matter. Are you going to kill us too just to be sure that I don't repeat what I did at the compound on New Mecca and Syrus doesn't repeat what he did to Sulleman? Perhaps you should consider finishing what the mercs started here before this colony can breed any more anti regulation, pro personal freedom, illegal weapons toting children.

"Things are going to become very complicated for you, Commander, if you start committing this kind of prohibitive murder. And believe me, if your superiors get it from you once, they will ask for it again. That's the nature of the animal. Eventually you will be exactly what they have accused Riddick of being but you won't be getting paid nearly as well. Also, the guilt for making those kinds of judgments will be on your soul not theirs. Speaking professionally and judging from the fact that you are here discussing this, I don't think that you have the proper psych profile to be able to live with that. I would suggest that you don't start."

Steely eyes locked with green. "And if I do?"

"Then sooner or later, you will suffer the same judgment that you are dispensing." Then Jenna continued silently to herself, … and I will see that it is sooner, very much sooner.

Jenna knew that she was winning when Sikes broke his eyes away from hers and again dragged his fingers through his hair. "Are you always this good at reading people, Captain Blakeney?"

"It's what I do best, Commander. Now, when will you release Rick?"

"From what you've said, I presume that the quicker the better. I can use my com to release him right now."

Jenna wanted to scream. Would this fucking game never end?

"You know better than that, Commander. Of course, you had to make sure that I did as well, didn't you. Whatever I say, I am still only someone who loves and believes in him. I have no right to speak for him. At most, I am a means by which you may assure yourself that he will be willing to speak to you for himself rather than coming out of that cell with nothing but lies on his tongue and revenge in his heart. I will accompany you to release Rick personally and then the three of us will return here and you and Rick will assure yourselves of each other's good intent. You and I both know that that is the only way this thing will be over and done with."

"I don't think so. I would prefer somewhere on my own ground."

At least he hadn't denied her assessment of the situation. "I'm sure that you would, Commander, but you've had Rick on your own ground for two weeks and it hasn't solved your problem. Now, you're going to have to meet him on his. That is the only way he will even come close to trusting you."

((Scene Break)) ((Scene Break))

Leonard September Sikes was wondering just how many kinds of fool he was as he led the way through the Patrol Cruiser Scimitar toward her brig. His ruse had worked. He had the proof he needed that it was actually Richard B. Riddick in the cell he was approaching. So why was he approaching it? Why was he seriously considering letting the man out? Maybe because his god damned plan hadn't included a proper appreciation of how convincing one Captain Djin ah Blakeney could be; hadn't included even the remotest thought of the possibility that she would turn his lies into reality.

He hadn't been anywhere near Riddick before, hadn't even looked at the man's files until this mess had fallen into his lap as a side issue to the Company problem. The Patrol took care of large criminal operations, like that station that the woman had been so careful to protect the location of. It dealt with inter-planetary and intra-planetary political problems, trying to settle them before it got to the point that the Forces had to be called in. It didn't bother with individual criminals like Riddick; that was what mercs and local police forces were for. When such a criminal occasionally turned up during some other operation, like this one, and wasn't considered part of the prosecution's case for that operation, it was a simple matter of shipping them back to whatever prison or planetary jurisdiction they had escaped from.

But this wasn't some simple criminal operation, this was a political hairball of the highest order and Riddick was up to his neck in it. When Sikes had received the order authorizing him to make certain that the 'identity of said individual' would never come back to bite anybody in the butt by 'any means necessary', he hadn't believed it. He had requested confirmation. It had come in the form of a personal message from his direct superior, Commodore Jenkins.

"Sorry it has to be you, Len. This wouldn't be our problem if the damned Forces weren't playing footsie with the Company and using Spec-Ops was out of the question. I'll back you whatever you decide to do. Just remember that the Brass aren't going to have to live with this, you are. For your own sake, just be damn sure you're right."

That advice had come a little late. From the first accusation that Wade was Riddick, he had been doing nothing but trying to make damn sure. The possibility of sending an innocent man into one of those hellhole, maximum security prisons wasn't something he could stomach, no matter how expedient it might be. He'd studied the files, both Riddick's, downloaded from Central Files, and the growing pile of information being gathered about Wade. He'd conducted the questioning of Wade himself. It didn't help.

Sikes hadn't lied to the woman about that, the man was an enigma. His behavior in that cell hadn't been that of a man who had never seen the inside of a prison, as 'Elric Wade' was supposed to be. However, during the questioning, he hadn't acted like a man worried about his own situation. He had been more interested in what had happened to the colonist and his lost fighter and her crew. Not the behavior of the egocentric sociopath that Riddick was purported to be; certainly not the actions of a man who had been sentenced to life in prison for going rogue and murdering every one in his section from the commander down.

Still, Sikes had come to the decision that the likelihood of Wade actually being Riddick was high enough to assuage his conscience and allow him to turn him over to be processed for re-imprisonment. Hell, from Riddick's records, they wouldn't be able to hold on to him very long anyway. Then that damn order had come telling him that the question of Wade's identity was to be dealt with outside of the system, that Richard B. Riddick could not be allowed to be resurrected to complicate the more important matters concerning the Institute group, the colony and the Company.

After thirty-five years of service, the Patrol had finally put him into the same position that had caused him to opt out of the Forces and into the Patrol in the first place. Only now, he had a lot more to lose and no place to opt out to. So he had gone to the woman, mistakenly thinking that she was the weakest link. The Good boy had already contributed all the information he had but for revenge, not a trustworthy motive. Sen was the type to say that his own mother was Riddick if it would advance his plans but had already made it quite clear that he, and the group as a whole, were 'innocent' of any knowledge of Wade's identity having been falsified. All that meant was that he was covering his own ass and would let the woman take the fall for it if it became a problem. However, if the woman could be tricked into confirming Riddick's identity in the belief that she was saving him, Sikes could trust that it was the truth.

Well, he'd gotten his truth, all right, and a lot more besides. The second he had his conformation, he should have stood up and walked out of there. Why had he stayed and listened to her? Maybe because confirmation that she gave him wasn't what he was expecting? That it just made the man even more of an enigma. Maybe because he hadn't heard what would justify killing in cold blood and hoped that he would if he heard how Riddick had seduced and used the woman? Would that have made it personal enough to kill Riddick with a clean conscience? Or at least one he could live with?

What he had gotten was the exact opposite. Nor had it been any fairy tale, love blinded pipe dream. She might be soft and delectable on the outside but there was a pig-iron tough brain on the inside. Riddick hadn't taken her anywhere she hadn't wanted to go. In fact, she had forced him in the matter of the murders at the compound when he would have kept her out of it. And Sikes had to believe her about that. There had been pride and no little amusement in her face and her voice when she had told the tale of out maneuvering both Riddick and Lazarus to have her way about it.

There was also the fact that he couldn't keep himself from beginning to understand the man that she claimed Riddick was. Sikes had had his own epiphany similar to that she had described for Riddick. It had come much earlier for him and involved someone much closer to him. His mother hadn't died for him, she had only died proud of him at a time when he wasn't very proud of himself. So he had opted out of the Forces and into the Patrol. Well, Riddick hadn't had that easy opt. But, if the woman could be believed, he had found one anyway.

Then, there was the problem of the woman herself. Sikes had been amused when he had first arrived to find her wearing one of the pieces of jewelry that had started popping up all over the colony soon after he had had them disarmed. Mr. Good had been quite quick to demonstrate the working of the mechanisms with his own gifted belt buckle and demand that they also be confiscated for his 'safety'. But, Sikes and his men had seen too many of obviously less talented manufacture and knew that Mr. Lazarus wasn't the only source now. What ever they confiscated would only be replaced by more hidden weapons. Better to know who was carrying than that.

What amused him in this case was that the woman hadn't seen fit to wear hers until now. After the revelations of her part at the compound, it wasn't so amusing any more. As her tale of her association with Riddick unfolded, Sikes had realized that she was seriously contemplating using that tiny weapon against him if she thought it necessary and had confidence that she would be effective at it. That wasn't something that he wanted to risk.

First, he didn't want to be forced to hurt her. Regardless of the questionable methods she was bent on learning, he had no doubts about the basically correct motives that drove her. Also, he couldn't deny that he found her attractive in a personal way, not an effect that most women had on him. He rather envied Riddick at having found her first. Women who could understand the differences that might set a man apart from the normal citizen, her 'sheep', and actually appreciate them were not easily found. However, a much more important fact to Sikes was that she would be another matter that he would have to handle outside the system. He was quite sure that his superiors would not care to have her complicate matters any more than Riddick. An attack on a senior officer of the Patrol by a member of the Institute group would certainly be considered such a complication.

With these thoughts going through his mind, her warning about prohibitive murders and his superiors continuing to use him in this manner once he had proven capable of it had hit him hard. As a prophecy only, it could have been set aside. As one that was already becoming reality, a reality that Sikes knew he couldn't find a way to live with, it couldn't. Damn the woman for being so right about that.

In the end, Sikes discovered that he hadn't been lying about wanting to talk to someone who was more his own kind either. Talking to the woman had emphasized the uncomfortable, almost slimy, feeling that talking to the Good boy and Sen had left him feeling, that the orders of his own superiors left him feeling. Compared to them, the woman, hell, even Riddick, came out the winners on who you'd rather sit down and have a drink with. It occurred to him that he just might be getting too old for this game when the criminals started looking like the 'good guys'.

So here he was, walking toward that cell, praying that the woman was right about Riddick. But even if that wasn't the case, he could live with it. He was giving Riddick the chance to prove himself. If the man refused the offer, reverted, it wouldn't be murder. It would be self-defense.


	46. Chapter 46 All Or Nothing

Love scene warning! Love scene warning! It's short but my characters would never forgive me if I didn't include it. LOL Marked by (( )) breaks.

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 46 – All Or Nothing

Riddick was counting off the hours of his fourteenth day in the cell with the reps of his exercising. Slowly chinning himself on the rack of the double bunk, he once again reviewed the slim group of clues he had to work with. It made no more sense than it had the several hundred times he had already gone over them. If the fake IDs had failed, as many of the 'voice's' questions implied, and they had any way to prove who he was, he should have already been long gone in transit back to slam. If they had held and the problem was only the challenged ownership of the colony and all the illegal weapons and equipment they had, he should have been released back into the general population of the colony days ago. With the Patrol in control of all of their ships the colony was as good as a slam without the Patrol having to bother with the care and feeding of the inmates and no one would be 'officially' under arrest until the Court got around to making their decisions and issuing warrants. The most that should have been done was tagging the major players, the leaders, with trackers so that they couldn't get themselves 'lost' in the unexplored territory outside of the settlement.

That he couldn't figure out what was going on didn't worry Riddick much as far as it concerned him. Sooner or later, he would find his way out just as he always had. What bothered him was that it gave him no clue as to what was happening with the rest; with Jenna and Jack, in particular, but also Syrus, Jeeter, Ben and even Rafferty and the other leaders among his people. From what little the Patrol Commander had said, it had sounded like they might be basically on the side of the resident colonists but, the longer Riddick sat in his cell, the more likely it seemed to him that all the rest were probably in the same situation. He was beginning to become really pissed at himself for not following Jenna's orders and making a run for it in the BC. He would have had a lot better chance of getting both of them out of this if he had.

The first clue Riddick had that something was changing was the sound of the bolts on his cell door being drawn. Though he simply stopped his exercise and seemed to lounge idly against the frame of the bunk and no one looking at him would have seen it, he immediately went into fight mode. It was a shock when Jenna walked through the door and held out her hand to him. Three things hit him immediately. She was armed, wearing Jeeter's beautiful but deadly gift and her earrings. She was dressed in her own clothing but 'off duty' clothing, without the cheater boots to give her extra height, and looked very deceptively petite and harmless. Last, while she was smiling, her eyes were as hard and serious as he had ever seen them. She didn't say anything, just begged him with her eyes to trust her. Fuck! What choice did he have? He took her hand and let her lead him out of the cell.

He wasn't surprised to find them surrounded by Patrol guards but found the presence of an officer wearing Commander pips something to question. It had to be the Sikes who had identified himself during the confrontation with the Forces ships. But Patrol Commanders didn't trouble themselves with people like Riddick. They just ordered some lower ranked schmuck to ship them back where they belonged.

The little time that he had heard Sikes' voice over the BC's com had given Riddick an image that didn't match the reality of the man. Shit! Riddick didn't think that they came that big in the Patrol. The man wasn't what you'd call 'hatch size'. He also looked like fluid granite walking. But he wasn't granite, just flesh that would slice and bleed like any other man. Riddick had taken bigger. He marked the man as a possible challenge but nothing beyond doing.

When the Master at Arms in charge of the guard detail slapped a set of restraining cuffs on him, Jenna's hiss of disapproval at Sikes and the man's warning frown at her but subsequent request for the control for the cuffs was another puzzle for Riddick. Added to it was the fact that Riddick now identified Sikes as the 'voice' that had questioned him over the com in his cell. Patrol Commanders didn't do interrogations.

Riddick's suspicions got even deeper as he saw that they were headed out of the ship. When, at Sikes' command, the guard dropped away and only Jenna, Sikes and himself continued on across the colony compound, Riddick's senses reached a painful level of sensitivity. Whatever Jenna was up to, he wanted to be ready to back her instantly.

He took note that the sun was just beginning to set. Until Sanctuary's large moon rose, it would soon be the unbroken dark, that he and Jenna could both utilize so well, everywhere but in the compound proper. He was more than satisfied when their destination turned out to be a housing pod well toward the outer limits of that compound. Closer to the landing pad where the BC was berthed would have been better but he had no doubt that he and Jenna could manage to get to her anyway. Now, it was just a matter of waiting patiently until Jenna cued him in on what was going on or made her move.

He didn't have to wait long. As soon as the door to the pod was closed behind them, Jenna commanded, "Shutters, down and lock; doors lock; lights, two percent." He watched as Sikes cried out to a light control that didn't answer to his voice and then went into a defensive stance, making it even easier for Jenna to lift the cuff control out of his outside uniform-coat pocket. The man spun at this, trying to catch whoever had touched him but Jenna easily evaded him. Riddick kept his eyes on the big man, now backing away from where he could see Riddick's shined eyes, a deadly little sting-laser appearing in his hand.

Sikes' first shot went wild as Riddick ducked and rolled. Seeing Jenna circling the man with one of those damned dangerous earrings of hers in her hand, Riddick hit the man low, taking him down. He felt the body under him jerk as Jenna wrenched Sikes' head back and shoved the drug dispenser up his nose. A barely audible hiss and Sikes struggles quickly faded and he went limp. Riddick raised up off of the body to find Jenna holding the cuff control out to him.

"I don't know how this thing works. Use them to cuff Sikes to something that's bolted down. You don't have to gag him. This pod is basically soundproof. Then you can change clothes. I had some of your own brought down. They're in the bedroom chest. Orange just isn't your color."

Riddick took the time to leer hungrily as Jenna swirled off into the bedroom. Then he threw his lust back into its cage and got down to business. As he dragged Sikes' considerable weight across the pod, cuffed the Patrol Commander to the living room side of the kitchen bar and searched him, a weight lifted from Riddick's mind that he hadn't realized was there until it disappeared. He discovered that he was relieved that Jenna hadn't killed the man. It took him a few minutes of thought, as he stripped the man of his com and checked him for other weapons, to understand why.

As they had walked across the compound, while they hadn't spoken and the majority of Sikes' attention was on watching Riddick, it hadn't taken long for Riddick to know that the man found Jenna interesting, very interesting, in a very personal way. Riddick could smell the challenge rolling off of the man, a challenge as primal as it could get between two males interested in the same female. Since Jenna had obviously made some kind of deal with Sikes to get Riddick out of that cell, the thought that the man's attraction to her might have had something to do with that deal made the prospect of bleeding him all that much sweeter.

The idea that Jenna would play someone that way to give Riddick the chance to escape, with the possible consequence of the man dying, didn't bother him. That she might have done so knowing that she was going to kill the man herself from the very start of it did. One of the things that had most fascinated Riddick about her was her hard, if weirdly individualized, base line of integrity. To have seduced Sikes with the intention of murdering him wouldn't fit with that, not when Jenna had the option of not killing. That was something that Riddick didn't want to be responsible for having caused to change.

Of course, if Sikes had forced her past anything but promises, Riddick was going to gut him like a pig right where he lay.

Walking into the bedroom, Riddick found that Jenna had stripped and was in the shower. Skinning out of the jumpsuit and prison slip-on shoes, he slipped in behind her and began helping her rinse shampoo out of her hair.

"Jack?"

"She's in the infirmary. Still critical but Syrus swears she'll be fine in a couple of months. Her crew made it down without a scratch. She made them strap down in the bunks and brought it in on her own. Jeeter's been by her side since he was released from questioning. Both she and Jeeter are clear as far as the Patrol is concerned. Too small to bother with."

Riddick had a hundred other questions but with that one answered the others would wait. Once the soap was gone, he began to nuzzle her neck, taking in the wonderful smell and taste of her. Turning in his arms, Jenna molded herself to him and pulled his mouth to hers. Several moments later he was forced to come up for air.

"How long we got before he wakes up, sweet thing?"

"A man of his size, about forty minutes but another ten or so before he will be clear-headed enough to talk to."

"Talk to? Then why jump him and drug him?"

"He pissed me off. I thought he needed an object lesson." She tightened her arms around his neck and slowly raised herself off the floor until her legs were wrapped around his waist. "Damn, I've missed you. Now, how about keeping that threat you made in that dark alley behind G's about taking me up against a wall?"

"I haven't done that yet?"

"Nope."

"Well, damn."

((Love Scene)) ((Love Scene))

The lights were still at two percent. In the steamy, wet heat of the shower cabinet Riddick's world shrank to the simplicity of the primordial era it mimicked. To shined vision there was only the shimmering energy aura of the woman in his arms meeting and merging with his own. He kneaded the softly sheathed muscles of her buttocks as he lifted her, sliding her higher up his body until he could nuzzle her breasts and capture hard, nubby nipples to tease and suck.

As her breath became broken and filled with sweet little moans, his already painfully hard cock demanded its share of the fun but he made it wait. He slipped his hands further under her, the fingers of one slipping inside of her while those of the other found her clit. Not until her moans had become sharp cries pleading for him and his fingers were soaked with her arousal did he press her hard against the wall and sheath himself to the balls in her with one violent thrust.

Her panted, "Yes, oh god, yes.", and her fingertips digging deep into the muscles of his back sent him over the edge into a frenzy, pillaging her with brutally powerful strokes.

He watched as her lips snarled back, exposing sharp, even white teeth; mirroring his own feral expression. The litany of her sharp cries of, "yes, yes, harder damn you, yes" reached a crescendo as his body began to spasm, demanding its own release. Then her orgasm hit, clutching him, milking him and he came with a strangled howl.

(( End Sex)) ((End Sex))

As he slowly sank to the floor of the shower, carrying Jenna gently with him, his only thought was, "Fuck heaven when life can be this good." An amused snicker, smothered against his chest, told him that he had said that out loud. He patted a bare butt cheek through the still warm rain of the shower.

"Up, woman. I want to shave before the meat in the living room wakes up."

Another smothered snicker, that he was sure he didn't want to know the reason for, and Jenna was up and gone and the shower was pelting him in the crotch. Climbing to his feet, he shut off the shower, toweled dry and went about the business of shaving two weeks' growth off of his face and scalp. Exiting to the bedroom, he found Jenna dressed in the all black ship's dress uniform and laying the same out for him on the bed.

Their long, hooded, black cloaks were there; as were the two satchels that had a good supply of clothing but also their shares of G's best jewels, extra sets of fake IDs and the cards to access the money accounts that went with them hidden in their false bottoms. He wondered if Jeeter wasn't also sitting on top of his and Jack's quick-escape satchels as well, waiting for the instant that Jack could be removed from the infirmary, or if they were as sure as Jenna was that the Patrol had no interest in them.

Checking the belt Jenna had laid out for him and finding that its shiv sheath was empty, he open another secret pocket in his satchel and chose one of the shivs hidden there to fill it and a couple of stickers and a stunner for his boots as well. Then he began dressing.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on now?"

"I'd rather you hear it from Sikes himself, make your own judgment about what he says." She started to leave the bedroom then stopped and turned back for a moment. "And Rick, whatever you decide is what we'll do."

Then she was gone, leaving Riddick staring at the empty doorway. Shit! That sounded too much like that fucking 'it's whatever you want it to be'. Well that wasn't going to be the way it was this time! This was looking to be the bottom line and the devil laughing his head off. No more dead and forgotten. No more chance for a righteous life. The hunt would be on again and the mercs would be crawling out of the woodwork, drooling for the bounty on his ass. There would be bleeding corpses left behind wherever they went. If she wanted a part of that, she was going to have to say it.

As he finished dressing, Riddick slammed his feet into his boots a little harder than necessary, made a final check of his blades and then stalked out of the bedroom. As he stood staring at Sikes, Jenna walked out of the kitchen and handed him a mug of what his nose told him was good strong coffee laced with whiskey. As he took a long swallow, he couldn't think of any drink that had ever tasted better. Funny how even that short of a time in a cell could make even the smallest things so damn much more when you were out again.

Suddenly something went cold and hard inside Riddick. He pulled Jenna tight against him and sealed his mouth to hers. Tasting the life in her, breathing it, using it to push back the icy darkness that had been growing in him for the last two weeks. As if she could read his thoughts, when he finally released her mouth, she whispered softly against his cheek, "There's still a chance." Then she turned in his arms and leaned back against him. Riddick knew that his arms were a little too tight as he held her hard against him but she didn't protest, only leaned her still slightly damn curls against his cheek as they continued to watch Sikes.

When the man finally opened his eyes, it was clear that either Jenna had misjudged his ability to recover or he had been faking unconsciousness until his mind was clear of the drugs effects. He almost immediately focused on their combined, shined stares. Riddick liked the man's reaction. There was no weakness, no real fear; just the realization of his really fucked situation and a feral determination to make them pay something for killing him. When he finally spoke it was only one word.

"Why?"

Jenna waited for a long moment before she answered him.

"Because cuffing Rick wasn't in the proper spirit of our agreement. It makes me doubt your sincerity; makes me wonder if all of this wasn't just some ruse to provoke him into something that would allow you to fulfill your orders with less damage to your conscience; something like 'killed while attempting to escape'. I thought that you needed a demonstration of how that would turn out. Also, I told you that you would have to meet him on his own ground. Well, this is it."

Riddick liked the sound of all that. When Jenna had talked about Sikes having pissed her off, his first thought had been that it had something to do with the attraction that Sikes obviously had for her. This didn't sound like anything even close to that. When Sikes answered her, Riddick gave him points for guts, considering the position he was in.

"Not a very effective way to convince me that I should set him free."

Jenna's warm, low laughter filled the pod.

"I would think, Commander, that the fact that you are still alive would do a great deal to convince you. However, the dynamics have changed a little. Now, Rick will be free no matter what you think about it. He will be free and alive and I have the greatest of confidence that he will be able to keep himself that way. What you need to decide now is how you wish to fit into this new reality.

"You can be discovered here, cuffed with your own equipment, to explain how the problem your superiors expected you to solve has now blown up in your and their faces, that Richard B. Riddick is once again alive and well and on the loose. Then again, you could lie to them about it, cover your ass by turning Rick into a new criminal. They will accept that, even demand it given the circumstances, but they really won't believe it, will they? Your career will be just as down the drain unofficially as it would have been officially.

"Or you can do your best to convince Rick that he can trust you to protect his secret, report to your superiors that he definitely isn't Riddick and allow him to remain with the colony without his having to worry that you, or someone else with a less well-developed conscience, is going to try to kill him the minute his back is turned."

Riddick felt that it was time that he got a little clarification of exactly what the hell was going on.

"Would you like to clue me in just a little, sweet thing?"

Jenna's smile was more a snarl as she continued staring at Sikes while speaking to Riddick.

"Due to the political complications it could cause should the integrity of the group be compromised by being associated with the infamous Riddick, the Commander has received some orders that he doesn't like. He is to see to it that Richard B. Riddick is dead, even if he isn't … yet. His problem is that he knows who you are and, while sending you back to prison wouldn't bother him in the least, he isn't happy with the idea of committing cold-blooded murder. He came to me looking for some way out of this dilemma.

"Actually, I think that he was really looking for some justification for murder in the way you had acted during our association. Since we are now standing here, I believe that we can assume that he didn't find it when I told him the absolute truth of everything that has happened since we first met as well as what I know of what happened on T2. What happens now is something you and he will have to discuss. Unless, of course, you would rather just toss it in as far as the colony is concerned and leave. We do have some time until it will be dark enough for us to do that. How you use that time is up to you."

If someone had given Riddick a thousand guesses as to what being released from that cell was going to lead to, this wouldn't have been one of them. So the cop had a problem with killing him? Since the Patrol couldn't collect on bounty, the reason wouldn't be money. That meant that Sikes was the by-the-book that he had thought he was. Too bad the ass-holes up the line weren't. Or maybe not. This 'political' thing? Riddick needed some time to figure out how what Jenna had just said could be worked to his advantage. He handed his mug to Jenna and then ran his hands over her mid-drift and belly and then her sides, marking his territory once more, before gently pushing her away.

"Make me something to eat and some more of that coffee. Something nice and greasy and unhealthy, like a shark-rat steak with all the fixings. The Commander runs a class slam but nothing but what's good for you gets old quick." Then he sat down in one of the side chairs and addressed Sikes. "Now, what's this political crap all about that has them trying to turn a Patrol straight arrow like you into Spec-Ops?"

The flush of heat to Sikes' face told Riddick that he'd hit the sore spot dead on. Jenna was right. Sikes would have sent Riddick back to slam in a heartbeat but was really pissed off at the idea of being expected to be his executioner. Sikes was a man looking for an 'out' and that was the key to dealing with him. Now, Riddick had to figure out if it was worth the risk to trust the man in the first place and, if it was, what it would take to push him in the direction he was already facing.

About half way through Sikes' explanation of the situation from his side, Jenna brought Riddick his food and coffee. As she turned to go back to the kitchen she made gestures at the coffee mug and at Sikes. Riddick gave her a short nod of agreement. He hadn't heard anything he didn't like from the man yet and a little courtesy could go a long way at this point in their negotiations.

When Jenna sat a mug down beside Sikes and, at Riddick's order, raised the lights enough for him to see it, Riddick used the control to unlock the cuffs. The Patrol Commander did a fairly good job of covering his surprise but he didn't get stupid. He seemed to realize that Riddick felt quite capable of taking him and didn't seem anxious to test out that belief, seemed to understand that those lights could go back down as quickly as they had come up. He adjusted himself into a more comfortable position but made no move to get up off of the floor as he smoothly continued speaking.

When Sikes finally finished, Riddick was satisfied that Jack and Jeeter would be ok and that the colony was almost certainly a done deal for both the group and Rafferty's people. He was even close to being comfortable with the idea of Sen continuing to breathe. He only had one question that needed answering before he finally decided on that one.

"If Sen didn't want the ID stuff to come up this quick and is denying the ID changes for anyone but the group, why are we having this conversation? Who tipped you to it?"

Sikes remained silent, unwilling to answer that. It was Jenna who did.

"It was Ben. I chose you. Jack chose Jeeter. Mira chose Casmir and I'm sure that he felt that Mr. Sen had betrayed him in someway as well. He set up the tarantula again and brought the Company mercs down on us. When that didn't work out the way he expected, he informed the Commander of the ID changes for everyone."

Fuck! That was the one that Riddick hadn't seen coming. … and it hurt! That was the worst part of it! It fucking hurt! All those years of turning it all off, of knowing that you couldn't trust, couldn't care – couldn't let yourself even want to care - … all the pain and hard lessons it had taken to get to that safe null void of not-caring … … and now … now he didn't feel much different from that snot-nosed little four-year-old kid who had stood on a sidewalk with his brown paper bag in his arms, wondering why his foster brother had blamed him for the food they had both stolen and where he was going to end up next and had first begun building that void.

But, as the wild roil of anger raged through him, Riddick realized that it was all aimed at himself; at his stupidity for letting it matter, rather than at Ben for just being what Riddick had long ago discovered people were. It didn't help when the first lucid question that formed in his mind made it crystal clear that the kid's betrayal hadn't really cured him of that stupidity.

"If they want all of this to disappear, what's going to happen to the kid? Is he slated for an 'accident', too?"

Riddick couldn't tell if Sikes' shock was at the idea that he even cared what happen to Ben or the idea that the boy-genius would be given the same swift dispatch as a criminal like Riddick.

"No! … They are planning to have him committed to a secure institution as incurably delusional, paranoid schizophrenic, but with facilities to continue his work."

Riddick did a quick mental comparison of the high-dollar, cushy institution that Sikes had to be talking about and the bowels-of-hell slams that he had known. The continuing inequities of the universe brought a sneer to his lips but it lacked the bitterness it once would have had. Riddick had to admit that somewhere in all that had happened since T2, he had developed at least a little capacity for something that no one had ever sent in his direction, mercy. Ben was one of the ones who should never have been let out of his 'gilded cage' and now he would be sent back where he belonged. That he might not be as happy there as before was punishment enough. Hell, Riddick thought, maybe he should just tattoo 'sucker' on his forehead and get it over with.

Then he flicked his gaze to Jenna and discovered an angry snarl on her beautiful face. The way her eyes gentled and filled with empathy as they moved from Sikes to him made him re-think that. Maybe the inequities weren't as deep any more and maybe he wasn't such a sucker after all. That realization brought with it an understanding of how badly he had been deluding himself with his plans for the future.

There was no way he was going to allow Jenna to join him on the run. Maybe before, when she was just as much on the lam as he was, he could have done it but not now; not now that the colony was certain to become a reality; not now that she would be able to have the life she deserved. Most especially, not now that the full understanding of what that "political crap" meant hit him.

He was no longer Riddick, escaped convict and murderer; he was Riddick, political problem. If he ran, it wouldn't be simple greedy mercs looking for him but men just like himself; men whose only hold on reality, only justification for their existence, was that they made their contracts. The dark seamy undersides of civilization that had always been his ground would now be turned against him. When they finally found the one that was better than he was, and they would find that one eventually, it wouldn't be slam, just an unmarked grave. As that reality came crashing down, it left him with no doubt about how fucking different life on the run would be for him and how impossibly short his odds for surviving very long had just become.

To this bleak future, he added in all that he had experienced in the years since T2 and, most importantly what he had been feeling in that cell and in the short time since Jenna had led him out of it. The comparison between the two left him with one ironic reality. He had finally reached that point that Imam had always warned him that he would. It was time for all or nothing. No more walking both sides of that thin line; time to make the final choice between what he had been and what he thought he wanted to become. Imam just hadn't told him that it would be a fucking cop making the choice for him.

Staring at Sikes, Riddick knew what he had to do, the risk he had to take. He released a deep rumble of laughter at this best of God's fucking jokes as he stood up and turned a hard glare on the Patrol Commander.

"I'm tired of running. If I can't keep what I've got here … then I guess it's time to spit in God's face in person."

Then, he walked over to Sikes and dropped the cuff control and the deadly little sting-laser in his lap. Stepping back, his arms at his sides, he gave the man a perfect target.


	47. Chapter 47 Epilogue

I NEVER RECEIVED A NOTICE WHEN I POSTED CHAPTER 46. If FF really didn't send out any, PLEASE, PLEASE READ CHAPTER 46 BEFORE YOU READ THIS or you will be totally out of the loop.

AND YES, THIS IS THE EPILOGUE. It has been a wonderful journey for me and I can only hope that it has been the same for my readers. I wish to take this opportunity to thank every one of those that were kind enough to review. Bless you for the encouragement. To those who haven't yet, please do so at least this once, even if only to say hello.

THE MOTHER LODE BY ABRAXIS

Chapter 47 – Epilogue

Captain Djin ah Blakeney sat in the command slot on the bridge of her repaired and refurbished ship, White Cliffs. Sen had managed to soak the Company to the maximum in the judgments against it for the actions of its mercs. Not only had all the original damage been repaired but a great deal more. The central core was now properly fitted for the transport of large numbers of any living creatures, colonist or livestock. All four of her bays contained hyper-capable pod transports, hyper-capable Captain's yachts and planet-side skimmers. She and all of her auxiliary ships had the latest not-available-to-civilians security and com systems and were illegally armed to the teeth.

The Patrol was turning a blind eye to those systems and weapons as well as keeping a close one on the only hyper gate to the colony. The Court was almost certain to wrest control of the Institute away from the current Company and Forces influenced Board of Directors and, should the colony prove viable, allow it to relocate most of its facility housing to Sanctuary. While the Forces had been reined in so tight with heavy scrutiny from dozens of government control groups and oversight committees and a complete reorganization of the high command ranks that they were no longer a threat, no one expected the Company to lie down and roll over like a good little doggy. Once the full wealth and political weight of the Institute was behind the colony, there would be a permanent Patrol base established there to protect the 'brain trust' of the human race. Until then, it was up to the crew of the White Cliffs to see to it that the colonization proceeded and the Company lawyers didn't have any grounds to claim that it was in default of the basic planet development regulations and up for grabs again.

Lifting her attention from the mass of reports that still needed her official sign-off, Jenna watched Jack and Jeeter for a moment as they worked to make the final adjustments on the complicated route they would be taking back to Sanctuary to finish with this round of pick-ups. Both had healed; Jeeter, his one hand still badly disabled, running rings around any two handed man at his console and Jack, the best of the Keller pilots, wearing her scars as the badge of honor that they were. Jack was carrying their first child and it would probably arrive before the White Cliffs finished her run for the colony. But whenever the time came, Jenna would pull the White Cliffs out of any planet orbit she might be in and take her out system because Jack wanted her child born in space and Syrus delivering it.

Jenna tried to turn her attention back to the reports but she already knew that they would be in order, that everything was ready for the White Cliffs to fly free from this planet orbit. Then the irony of that thought darkened her mood. The White Cliffs would never be truly free. She would always be tied to the needs of the colony. The only ship that could ever give Jenna real freedom was the BC, resting in bay #1 with her accompanying yacht and skimmer, now known as the "Bonne Chance" and completely the private property of Djin ah Blakeney with no ties to the colony at all other than service as a pod transport at the discretion of her owner.

Part of the Company's money had been used to give her the hyper-drive controls and navigation systems necessary for exploration of that still very unknown space. Also, though her cargo hold was still pod size, her crew quarters had been expanded and refurbished to a state of luxury comfort for at least a double crew of six and a good number of non-crew dependents, with all the bells and whistles necessary to be completely independent for long periods in deep space.

It would still be quite some time before Jenna would be able to consider turning over her responsibilities as Captain of the White Cliffs to someone else and doing that, or simply enjoying the life of an independent trader, but it was a pleasant thought that that freedom was ready and waiting for her. No, it was more than that. It was the only thing that kept Jenna from stealing a damned ship and becoming an out and out smuggler every time she had to turn the White Cliffs back toward Sanctuary.

The truth was that, while Jenna would honor her responsibilities to the colony, the memories connected to its establishment were just too painful for her to ever be comfortable there, ever make a life there. In fact, the hard doses of reality that she had been forced to swallow since leaving the sheltered life of the Institute had gone a long way toward making her unfit for most types of 'civilized' environments, most especially those with permanent Patrol bases. Except for the few people that still held a place in her heart, the rest of the human race was an interesting place to visit but it wasn't a place that she wanted to live in.

It had been a strange journey for the wide-eyed romantic child/woman that had so confidently spread her wings seeking to escape the stifling confines of the Institute; full of so very many painful lessons about not only the people she had thought that she knew so well, and didn't, but also about herself. One of the most painful of those lessons was the difference between relying on her ability to analyze people to make decisions that would effect a course of treatment and being forced to rely on it to make decisions that would effect her own life, even her soul, perhaps.

Little had she realized just what she was asking for when she had asked Riddick to teach her what she needed to know to survive in the new life she was seeking; how deeply she would become involved in his own search for a new life as well; how enmeshed their separate journeys would become; how high the cost of freedom could be. She hadn't really understood it until she had faced the terror of the last few moments of the confrontation with Sikes.

Over two years had passed since that night but as the memory of it suddenly came flooding back to her it was still as sharp as freshly broken glass.

Her mind had frozen with disbelief, denial when Riddick had so flippantly drawled "… I guess it's time to spit in God's eye in person", dropped the laser into Sikes' lap and then just stood waiting. Perhaps Sikes had been in a similar condition because it had seem like such a very long time passed before his hand finally moved toward the weapon and that movement had released her as well. Reaching for her pendant, she had attempted to speak.

"Ligh …"

"Don't!" Riddick's harsh command had drawn her eyes to his. "You said that whatever I decided was what we would do. Did you lie to me?"

"No." Jenna's throat was as tight now as it had been then and she wondered how she had choked out even that little word.

"Then don't do anything stupid. Not now. Not later."

As Riddick's attention had returned to the Patrol Commander, standing with his laser pointed at Riddick's chest, Jenna had found herself trapped in an internal battle between her promise to trust Riddick and her own panicked desperation to do something, anything, but sit there engulfed in helpless horror.

As the still too strong echoes of that remembered desperation rolled over her, she fought it as she had not been able to do then. Pushing her console aside, she stood. Controlling the urge to pant for breath with nothing but sheer will power and hoping that neither Jack nor Jeeter had noticed her distress, she crossed the bridge with as steady a pace as she could manage and entered the kitchen. Punching up a mug of coffee, she had to set it on the counter, untouched, because her hands were shaking too much to risk sloshing it all down the front of her uniform.

As she stood there, waiting for the temporary palsy to end, the sound of soft footsteps approaching from behind told her that she hadn't made her escape from the bridge unnoticed. Then, strong arms engulfed her, pulling her tight against a massive chest and a deep gravel-honey voice purred in her ear.

"Sikes dropping in to check up on us yesterday brought it all back, didn't it, sweet thing?"

"Yesssss. And as long as he has the official concern for the colony as a cover, we'll have to put up with it. I still think that you should have let me put that little gift from Syrus in his coffee. Syrus swore that it wouldn't kick in until after he was back on his own ship and would be just as undetectable as the stuff in my earrings."

The rumble of Riddick's laughter massaged the last of the tension from her back. "You and Syrus are two of a kind, no patience. I just finished decoding the message from Rafferty. The Court's decision on the Institute is a done deal. The White Cliffs will start relocating it to Sanctuary as soon as we finish this run. Rafferty was so pissed about his people being put on hold that he pounded Sen over the head with his part of their contract until he got proof of another very interesting fact out of Sen to shut him up. Another freighter just like the White Cliffs is already in transit for delivery to the colony to take care of his people. Because of your yoyo talents, we will be assigned to permanent Institute transport duty with at least two Patrol cruisers 'protecting' us at all times."

Jenna started shaking again; no palsy, just righteous rage.

"Son of a bitch! No wonder Sikes was in such a good mood. He and Sen are in bed together on this one."

One of Riddick's large hands moved in calming circles against her belly.

"True, but couldn't you have said that some other way. That's a really ugly picture."

"No uglier than what they are trying to do to us, the bastards!"

"You just need to look at it from a different side, sweet thing. With the Patrol to guard her, the White Cliff's doesn't need a battle proven crew any more. I'd say that it's time to pull our satchels out of the closet and give both Sen and Sikes something to really worry about. You talk it over with Jack and Jeeter and I'll clue Syrus and Archer in. We can all meet for dinner in the infirmary at end-shift to decide on when, where and how. And …" He spun her around and did his best to kiss her breathless before he continued. " … The only worry I want going through that not-quite-genius mind of yours is which direction we are going to point the BC's nose first."

Fin


End file.
